"Don't know how ya got here, huh?" he asks, but judging by his knowing smile and the slight tilt of his head it's a rhetorical question.

"Maybe you're dreamin'..." he says with a grin. Then he leans down so that his face is closer to her level, and his hands float forward, fingers wiggling as if casting a spell. In his best ghostly impression he moans, "Or maybe you're deeeaaad~!"

And then he's standing straight again and laughing! At this poor girl's possibly mortal predicament.

"Or maybe not," he concedes as if it were an afterthought. Still, now seems like as good a time as any for his hands to search his shirt pocket for a cigarette and lighter, both of which he offers to her. "Were you doin' magic before you got here? 'Cause that'll definitely do it. Just try doin' the same spell again, it'll probably getcha home."