'We will, father!' they all cried again. 'I am very happy,' said Bob. 'I am very happy!' Mrs Cratchit kissed him, his daughters kissed him, the two young Cratchits kissed him, and he and Peter shook hands. Tiny Tim, your goodness lives on in your family! 'Spirit,' said Scrooge, 'I know that you will leave me soon. Tell me who that dead man on the bed was!' No answer came in words, but the ghost of Christmas Yet to Come took Scrooge through the streets of London a gam. 'Wait a moment,' said Scrooge. 'We're passing my office. Let me see how I shall look in the future!' The spirit stopped. Its hand was pointing away from the office. But Scrooge hurried up to the window and looked in. It was an office still, but not his. The furniture was not the same, and the figure in the chair was not himself. The ghost continued to point onwards, and Scrooge followed. They reached a church, and entered the churchyard. Here, among the untidy graves and the uncut grass, lay the miserable man whose name Scrooge would soon learn. It was a lonely place, most suitable for a man so unloved. The spirit stood and pointed down at one of the graves. Scrooge was strangely afraid. 'Before I look more closely at that gravestone,' he said, 'answer me one question. Are these the shadows of the things that will be, or are they only shadows of the things that may be?'