Shirley Jackson- We Have Always Lived in The Castle
I still could not see him clearly, perhaps because he was a ghost, perhaps because he was so very big. His great round face, looking so much like our father’s, turned from Constance to Uncle Julian and back, smiling and opening its mouth to talk. I moved as far into my corner as I could, but finally the big face turned at me.
“WHy, there’s Mary,” it said. “Good morning, Mary.”
I put my face down to Jonas.
“Shy?” he asked Constance. “Never mind. Kids always take to me.”
Constance laughed. “We don’t see many strangers,” she said.