"Three or four," murmured Thong.
"Yes; three anyhow—maybe four. Something awakened me suddenly; but what, I can't say. I remember, at the time, it felt as though something had passed over my face."
"Like a hand?" suggested Carroll.
"Well, I couldn't be sure. It may have been I dreamed it."
"But what did it feel like?" insisted Thong.
"Well, like a cloth brushing my face more than like a hand—or it may have been a hand with a glove on it. Yes, it may have been that. Then I tried to arouse myself, but I heard the wind blowing and a sprinkle of rain, and, as my window was open, I thought the curtain might have blown across my face. That would account for it I reasoned, so—"
"Yes, it may have been the curtain," said Thong, slowly. "But what did you do?"
"Nothing. I lay still a little while, and then I went to sleep again.
I was only awake maybe two or three minutes."
"You didn't call Mrs. Darcy?"
"No."