"I really don't care for the way you've turned Gull Cottage into a house of horrors, Captain."

"Only for Claymore, my dear. The rest of Schooner Bay considers our domicile merely 'haunted.'"

"Our domicile?"

"Your ship."

"If you're talking about my home, I'm prepared to countenance groaning timbers and creaky hinges. But you've got Claymore so afraid of coming up here to Gull Cottage that up he passes out every time he sees flying furniture out of the corner of his eye."

"I can't be held responsible for the leech's imagination, Mrs. Muir. By the way, the furniture doesn't fly – it levitates. Why the sudden consternation over that decaying deck plank?"

"He may be thick but he's not a plank and I'll not have you torturing him with any of your 100-year-old ghost tricks or treats tomorrow. We need to fix a few things like the leak in the attic and it wouldn't hurt you to treat him like, well, a human being."

"Very well, Madame. I shall stand down when he boards Gull Cottage against my indirect order, and leave the scaring to you. Might I suggest you ask the penurious pipsqueak to absorb the expense of a new roof?"

"This conversation is beginning to sound like the lines from one of those silly Partridge Family episodes, Captain."

"Very well, Madame. You're the one who insisted on discussing the fool in the first place. Every time he barges into our own little drama, life takes a comedic, albeit tragic, turn."

"Well, I bid you good night, Captain. I've got a little more reading to do and I hope you can keep the ghostly antics to a minimum until tomorrow night."


"Stomps, thuds, levitations, thunder-squalls, muffled screams – oh, go on. Think Dark Shadows. Dematerialize!"