John Constable Salisbury Cathedral

John Constable Salisbury CathedralJohn Constable Salisbury Cathedral from the MeadowsJohn Constable Hadleigh CastleJohn Constable Flatford Mill
At the foot of the bed, paying no attention whatsoever to the keening around it, was a large, very fat, ginger cat.
SQUEAK.
Susan looked at the hourglass. The last few grains tumbled through the pinch.
The Death of Rats, with exaggerated caution, sneaked up behind the sleeping cat and kicked it hard. The animal awoke, in the air compared to the old man sitting up in bed. He looked solid enough, but a blue glow outlined him.
'One hundred and seven years, eh?' he cackled. 'I expect I had you worried for a while there. Where are you?'
'Er, HERE,' said Susan.
'Female, eh?' said the old man. 'Well, well, well.'turned, flattened its ears in terror, and leapt off the quilt.The Death of Rats sniggered.SNH, SNH, SNH.One of the mourners, a pinch‑faced man, looked up. He peered at the sleeper.'That's it,' he said. 'He's gone.''I thought we were going to be here all day,' said the woman next to him, standing up. 'Did you see that wretched old cat move? Animals can tell, you know. They've got this sixth sense.'SNH, SNH, SNH.'Well, come on there, I know you're here somewhere,' said the corpse. It sat up.Susan was familiar with the idea of ghosts. But she hadn't expected it to be like this. She hadn't expected the ghosts to be the living, but they were merely pale sketches