She sees leaves dancing in the wind, sudden swirling gusts gathering in whirlpools. She becomes afraid.

"It's a ghost," she says, and refuses to step outside, into the waiting grasp of the phantom.

Her mother takes a glance through the door, sighs with impatience.

"There's no ghost there. It's just the wind," she says. To herself: "Where does the child get these ideas!"

"No ghost?" The girl echoes. She is confused between the evidence of her intellect and her mother's authority. She steps gingerly out, unsure as yet which to believe.