It happened to my aunt when she was on her first visit to London. Once my aunt,
a young girl then, went for a walk and returned to the hotel rather late. She found her room unlocked, but she didn't think it to be of great importance and went in. When she switched on the light, she shuddered with fear: a stranger in dirty boots was lying on her bed with his feet on the pillow and his head at the foot of the bed. At first it seemed to my aunt that she would die of fear, but after some moments she realized that the man was in no condition to get up or do any harm to her. She felt somewhat reassured, but still she couldn't help screaming so loud that all the neighbours woke up and came running into the room. Great was her embarrassment when she was told that she had entered the wrong room: her room was just above the one she had opened on the next floor.