With every pressure of my knee, how the floor creaked! and every time I chanced to rake against any article, it seemed to give out thirty-five or thirty-six times more noise than it would have done in the daytime.

In those cases I always stopped and held my breath till I was sure Harris had not awakened--then I crept along again.

I moved on and on, but I could not find the sock; I could not seem to find anything but furniture.

I could not remember that there was much furniture in the room when I went to bed, but the place was alive with it now -- especially chairs--chairs everywhere--had a couple of families moved in, in the mean time?
And I never could seem to GLANCE on one of those chairs, but always struck it full and square with my head.
My temper rose, by steady and sure degrees, and as I pawed on and on, I fell to making vicious comments under my breath.
Finally, with a venomous access of irritation, I said I would leave without the sock; so I rose up and made straight for the door--as I supposed--and suddenly confronted my dim spectral image in the unbroken mirror.

It startled the breath out of me, for an instant; it also showed me that I was lost, and had no sort of idea where I was.