I called out.
"Is anyone there?", I called out. No answer came. I started towards the door. Nearing it, I heard a woman singing. Her voice was like my mother's voice, singing me old forgotten songs, lulling me to sleep. I peered into the room. There, a woman sits, knitting.
The only source of light in the room was a dim candle. It was a big room, filled with paintings. In the corner of the room there was a piano. "This must be a drawing room.", I said to myself. You would expect an abandoned place to be dirty and filled with dust, but in the room, not a speck of dust to be found. It was as clean as my new hankerchief.
