It was an intense blackness.

The moment his head was in the opening the sense of listening, which is ever in a house, came to him.

There were the strange, musty, underground odors which go with cellars and make men think of death.
However, he must not stay here indefinitely.

To be seen leaning in at this window was as bad as to be seen in the house itself.

He slipped through the opening at once, and beneath his feet there was a soft crunching of coal.