She turned her head back again towards the window.

The wooden door had swung a little more open.

There was a wider chink to let the twilight of that starlit darkness through.
And as she looked, the chink slowly broadened and broadened, the door swung slowly back on hinges which were strangely silent.

Celia stared at the widening panel of grey light with a vague terror.

It was strange that she could hear no whisper of wind in the garden.