I know that the first two are empty.

It is in the third that the Ogress dwells, unless, indeed, she has already set out upon her nocturnal hunt for human flesh.

Pitch darkness reigns within and I have to grope my way.
Quickly I light a match.

Yes, there she is indeed, alone and upright, almost part of the end wall, on which my little light makes the horrible shadow of her head dance.

The match goes out--irreverently I light many more under her chin, under that heavy, man-eating jaw.