This short ghost story by Tom Hood tells of a young spinster whose lover dies on an expedition to Antarctica. His murderer returns to propose marriage to the greiving lady. But he is instead greeted by a haunted portrait of his victim and a moth that secretes bloody red drops. And then there's that extra shadow he casts, which bares no resemblance to his own.
I have a number of these black and white images from ghost stories I'll be posting. I love the macabre--especially simple quiet moments when 'something just isn't quite right'. The image doesn't make as much sense until you know the story--the beauty of illustration.