He climbs the stairs. I know him by his tread. My brother! The door
creaks a little as he pushes it. Now he steps inside and says hello. He
stands by the door and looks round. What a funny place to be, he says.
Not the house, he adds. The house is very nice. Very nice indeed, as far
as I can judge. But why do you sit here in the dusk like that? I knew it
was you, I tell him. He comes forward into the room. There is nowhere
for him to sit.