The Ghost and Mrs. Muir

I said nothing of the sort.

I said the house

had been empty. It has.

A charwoman

was here last week.

Well, she must have left

in a frightful hurry.

That she did.

Did she tell you why?

She told me nothing.

She returned the key

to the office whilst I was out.

Oh.

Mrs. Muir, I--

I know, it won't suit me.

But it does.

I'd like to see the upstairs.

The upstairs.

The, uh, main bedroom.

Of course.

He liked to watch the ships.

But what...

That's what it is.

You're clean.

I beg your pardon,

Mrs. Muir.

Oh, not you, Mr. Coombe,

the telescope.

Did you laugh,

Mr. Coombe?

Mr. Coombe?

You would come.

I didn't want to show it to you...

but, oh, no, no,

you had to see it.

Haunted.

How perfectly fascinating.

Fascinating?

I suppose it's fascinating that

this house is driving me to drink.

To drink!

Four times I've rented it

and four times the tenants

have left after the very first night.

The owner's in Australia,

Captain Gregg's cousin.

I've written to him, cabled him

begging him to release me...

but he only replies,

""Rely on you.''

Well, I don't want

to be relied on.

I never want to see

this house again.

I wish Captain Gregg

had lived to be 1 OO.

I wish he'd never been born.

I'm terribly sorry,

Mr. Coombe.

Well, at least you know now

why it won't suit you.

Yes, I--I suppose so.

Why does he haunt?

Was he murdered?

No, he committed suicide.

Uhh! I wonder why.

To save someone the trouble

of assassinating him, no doubt.

Come. We'll go

to Labernum Mount.

Mrs. Muir.

Mrs. Muir, if you please.

You'll probably think it

very silly of me, Mr. Coombe...

but I've decided to take

Gull Cottage after all.

I mean, if everyone rushes off

at the slightest sound...

of course the house

gets a bad name.

But it's too ridiculous, really...

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