A touch on the lawyer's wrinkled hand as he stands in the dark room, irresolute, makes him start and say, "What's that?"
"It's me," returns the old man of the house, whose breath is in his ear. "Can't you wake him?"
"No."
"What have you done with your candle?"
"It's gone out. Here it is."

A touch on the lawyer's wrinkled hand as he stands in the dark room, irresolute, makes him start and say, "What's that?"
"It's me," returns the old man of the house. "Can't you wake him?"
"No."
"What have you done with your candle?"
"It's gone out."
