From somewhere between the chipped hat rack and the tall bookshelf came this: "Jacob, she has been told that her presence is not necessary. That matters have been dealt with. She is to finish her liquor drink and leave." Cheryl stopped mid-sip. She spoke with her lips still on the glass. "What's that?" she burbled. "It's one of the ghosts, spirits, ethereal beings, or as I call them..." (loudly now) "PAINS IN THE ASS!", (quietly now) that live here. Do you want real sugar, or will Equal do?" Jacob said.