Who was the Japanese speaker?
I crept to the door, and opened it slightly.
Not a soul was there.
I heard the trivial clatter of the kitchen stepping up.
I dipped into my bed again. I smiled sceptically, thinking that I must have been dreaming.
“Gokigen ikaga?”
I was addressed again by the same voice.
I said that there was positively some mischief in my room.
I leaped down from the bed.
I inspected my slippers. I made sure there was nothing strange under the pictures on the wall. I tugged at the drawers. I tumbled every blanket. I pried in the pitcher.