The street was as quiet as a churchyard. The sky was just beginning to grow faintly light.
Harcourt closed the door behind him, and went down the steps.
As he reached the sidewalk he heard a low moan and sob.
He stopped in surprise to listen and look up and down the street.
But he could see no one.
The moan and sob were repeated so near him that, as there was no one in sight, it seemed weird, ghostly, supernatural.
He looked all around the doorstep, but still saw nothing.
The moan and sob were reiterated with the tearful wail:
“Oh, why don’t she come? Why don’t she come?”
Then, at length, he was able to locate the voice. It came from under the stoop.