The destruction of Collinwood is beginning to overcome my deductive faculties.  This goes beyond seeing my work and home in ruins (but Collins Hall is in acceptable repair).  It is a private guilt.  I have not always been kind to my cousins.  Sometimes, I have been quite cruel.  However, we were family, and as such, there was a strange affection that was always blended with my misdeeds.  To see that they have and do struggle and suffer so at the hands of these enigmatic ghost with the cruel smiles, and that I may have no power to stop them, makes me feel like less than a Collins and less than a man.  How must Quentin have felt?  How does he feel now, hectored by what he himself was — and wasn’t.  When his ghost appeared, I sensed joy and perverse creativity from it.  In this case, Gerard displays only malice and icy wrath.

One exorcism failed.  I am determined not to.


ps — The ghost of a  beautiful woman appeared, as did a note: “She will die!”  Disquieting.


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