'It's the End of It,' Said Scrooge

Scrooge looked on in horror as they sat grouped about their spoil. He viewed them with a detestation and disgust which could hardly have been greater. A pale light rising in the outer air, fell straight upon the bed. And on it, plundered and bereft, unwatched, unwept, uncared for. Scrooge glanced towards the phantom. Its steady hand was pointed to the head. O cold, cold, rigid, dreadful death. Set up thine altar here and dress it with such terrors as thou hast at thy command. For this is thy dominion. But of the loved, revered and honoured head, thou canst not turn one hair to