MY house is in a quiet corner of a quiet square. We are sheltered
from wind and noise, even when it is stormy. About three years ago I
was living here quite alone and, while undressing, about eleven
o'clock one night, when there was not a breath of wind or a sound to
be heard, I suddenly heard a noise in the hall below, like air moving
swiftly round and round with a swishing noise, as when something is
swung from the end of a string. Then it began to move and come up the
stairs. I was very frightened and said to myself—although I knew it
wasn't—“This is wind; it will pass out at the landing window.” But it
didn’t; it turned the corners—two corners, in fact—and came straight
along the corridor and shook the handle of my bedroom door strongly.
Then all was quiet as before. I should very much like to know just
what it was.