We must not indulge fear. I remember my Cousin Blob, deathly afraid of ghosts.
Ghosts?
Now he's one himself.
Ah yes... I hear him on dark, stormy nights.
Oh darling, those strange sounds from the attic aren't Cousin Blob.
No?
They're Grandma Squint. You can tell from her superb cackle.
Ah yes... like music to my ears.
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