He heard something that he thought might be a faint laugh. And immediately ten years more came off the lady's age, and she stood at twenty-two. The young man began to consider with less distaste his obvious duty of escorting her home.
In the momentary silence, wood somewhere near them once more creaked loudly and scarily.
"Oh!" came her voice out of the blackness. "Would you mind striking a match and seeing if there isn't a lamp or something we could light?"
"But I haven't a match—that's just it! If I had—! Why I assure you I've been wishing for nothing so much as a light ever since you—ever since I came in."
"If I were a man—" she began, vexedly, but suddenly checked herself.
"Are you quite sure you haven't a single one?"
"I'll gladly look again in all my twenty-seven pockets. I've been doing it ever since I arrived, and I've gotten rather to like it. But I'm awfully afraid it's a wild goose chase."
Crack! Crack! went the mysteriously stirring woodwork, for all the world like a living thing; and the lady again said "Oh!" And after that she said: "You are not—in this room, are you?"
"I'm sitting quietly on the steps digging around for matches," he said.
"Would you prefer to have me come in there?"
"Would you mind—? Not that I'm in the least frightened, but—"
"It will give me great pleasure to come—faithfully searching my pockets as I grope forward. Thus," he said, laughing, "I must grope only with my head and feet, which is a slightly dangerous thing to do. Ouch! Where are you, please?"