“No, no,” was whispered.
“I’ll strike a match and see.”
“No. We want every mouthful of air to breathe, or I should have struck one long ago.”
“Of course. I never thought of it once. Sleepy?”
“No.”
“Then fair play. Tell me your story now.”
“There is no need. But tell me this; am I awake? Have you told me all this, or have I dreamed it?”
“I’ve told you it all, of course.”
“Am I sane, or wandering in my head? It can’t be true. I must be mad.”
“Then I am, too. Bah! as Uncle Morgan said. Come, play fair; tell me how you came here?”