Gwyn would scream her lungs out!
He reached up hastily, broke the clamps on his helmet and swung it back. Best to let her see his face, first, and recognize him—
A door opened out in the hallway.
"Who is it, Gwyn?" Old man Davidson's voice had the mellowness of a concrete mixer.
"Nobody, Dad!" Gwyn's voice came from downstairs, puzzled. Small feet stamped on the stairs. "It's awfully cold out for anyone to be playing pranks. When I opened the door, there was nobody out there!"
"Well, go back to sleep, honey."
"All right. 'Night, Dad."
The door closed in the hallway. The small footsteps trod disconsolately toward Gwyn's door.
Then she was swirling into the room, closing the door, and pulling the housecoat off over her blue, pink-flowered pajamas.
When she saw him, she froze and sucked in her breath.