(Story begins here.)
The rest of the night passed uneventfully, and the morning came along relatively quickly. Anton woke up feeling refreshed and somewhat disoriented, as though he had been trapped in a dream. He sat upright in his bed and looked about him. The sun light streamed through the amply large windows, the beams of light clear against the mildly dusty interior. His memory was hazy, but as he sat there and mulled, bits and pieces of it were re-forming again back in his mind.
Elizabeth.
That one word flashed through his mind, triggering as many synapse junctions as the memory arced through from one end of his brain to the other. The flute playing, the white frock, the long chestnut tresses, the soulful eyes, the melancholy---they were all coming back to him, gathering momentum and flotsam all together to coalesce into a single coherent image of a person. Someone who claimed to have known him from before his current incarnation, someone who pined for him and died for him of a broken heart.
Three sharp raps on the door jarred Anton back from his day dream.
``Master Anton, the hot water is ready for your use. Will you need additional time before using the bath?''
``Ah thank you, Mr Higgins. I will be there shortly,'' Anton replied to his housekeeper as he swung his legs off his bed and stood up, standing in his pajamas.
``Very well Master Anton, I shall take my leave and prepare breakfast in the dining room,'' the housekeeper said, giving a bow and swivelling about face on his feet to leave the room.
``No wait! Hold on Mr Higgins. Does `Elizabeth' ring a bell to you?''
Even before the housekeeper's reply, Anton could see that it was a name that was familiar to the former. The tell-tale signs of a surprised recognition of a name that hadn't been heard was all too obvious---the shoulders were suddenly shrugged, the gait stopped suddenly but quickly before assuming more stable standing position, the slow about turn to face him---they were all there. Mr Higgins was looking curiously at Anton at this point, his eyes querying.
`` `Elizabeth', Master Anton? Have you, by any chance, met the apparition that calls itself by that name, say within the proximity of the grand stairs near to the witching hour?'' Mr Higgins said in a deliberate and controlled manner. Anton observed his housekeeper carefully. Behind the aloof exterior Anton could sense a fierce emotion hiding behind the grey eyes, though if it were fear or anger it was hard to tell. Choosing his words carefully, Anton made his reply.
``It seems you have met her already.''
``Ah, Master Anton, that is not exactly true. I have been a housekeeper here for over fifty years and the apparition had made itself appear very frequently throughout this time, though I haven't had to make an acquaintance with it myself. Previous masters of the house have seen the apparition before you did, and they often told me stories that sounded uncannily alike.
``Master Anton, may I suggest that you defer your questions till after the bath, while you are having breakfast in the dining room? I think it will prove to be a better choice than seeking clarification solely from me right now.''
(Story continues here.)
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