"It was a Monday afternoon in November and already growing dark, not because of the lateness of the hour--it was barely three o'clock--but because of the fog, the thickest of London pea-soupers.' So begins Arthur Kipps' account of the terrible events at Eel Marsh House. When he was instructed to take the train to the north, to attend the funeral of Mrs. Alice Drablow in Crythin Gifford, he imagined that it would be one of those formalities which all young, up-and-coming solicitors must tolerate: there would be a certain number of papers to sift through, the will to be read, the funeral itself. But the house out on the marshes beyond Nine Lives Causeway held many secrets. There was the rocking chair in the nursery. There was the sound of a pony and trap. And there was the women in black. Arthur Kipps' life was dramatically, tragically, altered by what he saw and heard and discovered in Eel Marsh House. It was only years later that he could find the courage to place every terrifying detail on record."--Book jacket.