“Yes, many times.”
“Can you describe these noises?”
“No; they were of all kinds. The pines sighed continually; I knew it was the pines, but I had to listen. Once I heard a rushing sound—it was when the pines stopped swaying for an instant—but I don’t know what it was. It was all very dreadful.”
“Was this rushing sound such as a window might make on being opened?”
“Possibly. I didn’t think of it at the time, but it might have been.”
“From what direction did it come?”
“Back of me, for I turned my head about.”
“Where were you at the time?”
“At the hearth. It was before Adelaide came in.”
“A near sound, or a far?”