Ordinarily, Oskar would have his ear pressed up against the door in order to clearly hear what his guest inside had to say.  Jane, however, was anything but ordinary.  Instead, he stood near the bedroom door as she implemented communication through their minds.<br/><br/>Her question about candles raised a genuine smile.  A lamp is right next to her, he thought.  But of course, not only did she not know what it was; she would also in turn not know how to put it to use.  So far, Oskar found every display of her naiveté to be both touching and sweet.  He did not see any of this changing in any way, since she had so much more to learn and see.  Wait ‘til she sees the TV, he mused, and that’ll freak her out right proper.<br/><br/>Wishing to show her instead of tell her (besides, she was more prone to knocking the lamp over than not in an attempt to turn it on), he stated softly, “I’m coming in, Jane.  I can do something about the darkness.”  He briefly considered asking her if she was “decent,” but nixed the idea as she probably wouldn’t know what he meant.<br/><br/>His eyes needed minimal time to adjust to the gloom.  Though in reality, he could maneuver around the room with his eyes closed, as he knew its layout so well.  Standing by her bedside, he could tell she was looking at him expectantly, eager to know the whereabouts of those candles.  Instead, he reached under the lamp shade and flicked it on.<br/><br/>Voila!  Instant illumination.  Jane’s expression, unsurprisingly, was priceless (to coin an annoying phrase).  Her mouth hung open and her eyes were wide with wonder.  Now armed with delusions of David Copperfield grandeur, he switched the lamp off, waited a few seconds, and then turned it back on.  He wasn’t certain, but it appeared as if her lower jaw had dropped a little more, while her eyes grew wider.  Oskar shrugged at her with an easy smile.  “See?  No need for candles,” he said.