Old Mrs Heldmann was, apparently, a gorgon and a terror. During her widowhood, she sat erect, bony, stone-deaf, properly dressed in costly black, with a sharp and unkind word for everyone; also with a griffon in her lap. This animal was named Marquis, spoken in the French manner (griffons, now extinct I believe, being Belgian dogs.) ... There is also a tale - one tale - of my great-grandmother in actual movement; of course before her bereavement. She was leading the children along the Front at Brighton when all of them saw her husband approaching from the opposite direction with an unknown woman on his arm, quite possibly wearing a fashionable hat. My great-grandmother wheeled, having, it is said, turned completely white. That is all. Even the hat is surmise. Most families have a similar story. So little is definite.

Robert Aickman, in his autobiography, The Attempted Rescue.