The Empty Grave

This is what the Problem means,” he went on. “This is the effect it has. Lives lost, loved ones taken before their time. And then we hide our dead behind iron walls and leave them to the thorns and ivy. We lose them twice over, Lucy. Death’s not the worst of it. We turn our faces away.

The skull’s…spirit? He…he looks different.” The youth scowled. “Yeah? You look just the same. I was banking on frostbite taking a few of your fingers, or even your nose. Here’s hoping something else has dropped off that I don’t know about. If not, I’ll be sorely disappointed.” Lockwood stared. “Does he always talk like this?” “No. Usually he’s worse. See what I have to put up with?

Looks?” the skull said. “Who cares about that? It’s superficial. Outward appearance doesn’t interest me at all. Why do you think I hang around with you?” It chuckled. “Insult aside, that’s just one way in which I’m superior to every one of you, except for Cubbins.” I blinked. “What? Why? What’s George got to do with anything?” “What a person looks like doesn’t bother him much, or hadn’t you noticed?

Who says I’m dying? Did you see the amount of sheer effort it took me to escape the land of the dead? I’m not going back in now!

Lockwood didn’t speak until everything was quiet again. “I know you’re worrying about me, Luce,” he said. “But you really mustn’t. These things happen when you’re an agent. You’ve been snared by ghosts in the past, haven’t you? There was the one that made the bloody footprints, and the thing in the tunnels below the Aickmere Brothers store. But it’s fine, because I helped you then, and you’ve helped me now. We’re there to help each other. If we do that, we’ll get through.” Which was a lovely thing to say, and it made me feel a little warmer. I just had to hope it was true.

Let's have the baddish one first,' George said. 'I prefer my misery to come at me in stages, so I can acclimatize on the way.

Here we go," the Skull sighed. "Cue crisis!

Do you trust me?' the skull said. ... 'Yes,' I said. 'Sort of.' 'Then break the bloody glass.

It was higher and shriller than Holly’s, so we knew that it was Kipps.

Mr Lockwood, you've impressed a lot of people over the years. Personally, I expected you to be ghost-touched long ago, but your agency has flourished. Impress me again now... Let them forget about you... Even now, it's probably not too late. - Inspector Barnes

Ooh, I smell something burning... Wait, wait - it's your pants ! Your pants are on fire, you massive liar ! You so weren't on a case !

Ghost Lore among the Tribes of New Guinea and West Sumatra,

The door closed; almost imperceptably, the lift began to rise. 'Going up,' the skull said. 'Next floor: cutlery, condiments and underpants.