I know it sounds impossible, and I don't ask you to believe it if you don't want to, but it's true. Right away in the middle of the room stood a sort of camp bed of the smallest possible dimensions. With its white mosquito curtains carefully tucked in it stood out like an oasis in the desert. Against the walls, one at each end of the room, were two almirahs, and by the side of the bed was a strip of carpet laid down over the matting that covered the floor, and on the strip of carpet was a tiny tea-table. Then there was a dressing-table with another strip of carpet in front of it, and two wicker chairs. And that was all. Just imagine what that in the way of furniture looked like in a room forty by thirty-four, with eighteen curtainless doors. It looked positively naked and indecent, let alone the creepy, uncanny sort of feeling it gave you when you reflected on the fact that you had to sleep in it. I knew straight away that for any one constituted as I am sleep was not to be expected in a room like that.
Ermyntrude, for a wonder, had nothing to complain of. She had a nice cosy little room somewhere at the other end of the house, and was quite content. I privately determined to detain her with me as long as possible, but, of course, I could never let her see that I was afraid to be left alone. I should never have been able to pour contempt upon her many fears again if I had ever let her see that. So I thought of Aunt Agatha's maxims, and tried to look much braver than I felt.
'May I come in?' said a voice suddenly at one
