"How can I?" I said at length. "Let me go, if you want me to let you in!"
The fingers relaxed, I snatched mine through the hole, hurriedly piled the books up in a pyramid against it, and stopped my ears to exclude the lamentable prayer.
I seemed to keep them closed above a quarter of an hour, yet, the instant I listened, again, there was the doleful cry moaning on!
"Begone!" I shouted, "I'll never let you in, not if you beg for twenty years!"
"It's twenty years," mourned the voice, "twenty years, I've been a waif for twenty years!"
Thereat began a feeble scratching outside, and the pile of books moved as if thrust forward.
I tried to jump up; but, could not stir a limb; and so, yelled aloud, in a frenzy of fright.
To my confusion, I discovered the yell was not ideal. Hasty footsteps approached my
