With the darkness outside, the glass had become a sort of mirror, and she said her own figure in it startled her for a moment. She stood staring at it, when she realized that she was not alone in the room. Clearly reflected, behind and over her right shoulder, was a face.
It disappeared almost immediately, and I have my own private doubts about her recognition of it as Uncle Horace, which I believe is post facto. But I am obliged to admit that Jane saw something, either outside the window and looking in, or the creation of her own excited fancy.
post factoAs soon as I could leave her I went outside, but I could find no one there, and this morning I find that my own foot prints under the window have entirely obliterated anything else that may have been there.
Jane herself believes it was
