Nobody here is getting ready to go out. The wigs and the ties are on, but the rooms are a quiet evening at home: the one-eyed mom reading to the little one on a round rug, dad behind his newspaper, the mummy grandma on the sofa with a cup of tea. And the walls fill up with family portraits, frame after frame, as if they liked looking at themselves.
Open the one built at night: a little ghost glows on the floorboards like a nightlight.