She pushed it a little farther, listened, grew bolder--yet frightened with a new fear--and stepped inside.
It was very quiet.

It was so quiet that Mary V held her breath and was tempted to turn and run away.

She waited for a minute, her nostrils widened to the pent odor of stale cigarette smoke that clings to a bachelor's cabin in warm weather.

She tiptoed across the room to where Johnny's cot stood and timidly passed her hands above the covers.
Emboldened by its flat emptiness, Mary V turned and felt along the window ledge where she had seen that Johnny kept his matches, found the box, and lighted a match.
The flare showed her the empty room.

Oddly, she stared at the telephone as though she expected it to reveal something.