The Light of Mister Reed

I doubted, not never doubted, that if mister reed had been alive, he would have treated me kindly. A singular notion dawned upon me. And i thought mister Reed's spirit might quit its abode and rise before me in this chamber. I wiped my tears and hushed my sobs, fearful lest any ign of violent grief might waken a preternatural voice to comfort me. At this moment, a light gleamed on the wall. Was it, i asked myself, a ray from the moon penetrating some aperture in the blind no. Moonlight was still, and this stirred. While i gazed, it glided up to the ceiling and quivered over

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