when you feel better.

But again and again your eyes open on the cold dumb darkness, and there is nothing but the wind and strange sinister emptiness creaking on the stair.
These are the terrible nights of Living Alone, yet no real lover of that house and of that state would ever exchange one of those haunted and desert nights for a night spent watched, in soft warm places.
Sarah Brown was not long left alone that night to look at the strip of moonlight on the cold ashes of her fireplace.

The Shop below shook suddenly with many footfalls, and the metallic officious barking of the Dog David rent the still air of her cell.
A man's voice at the foot of the stairs said: "I can hear a dog barking." And a woman's voice followed it: "Angela, dear, is that you ?" Sarah Brown was only aware of a vague and irksome disturbance.

She groped to her door, opened it, and shouted miserably: "Go away, policeman, go away.

She is not here." Lady Arabel came up, flashing an electric torch.
"My dear, you look dretfully ill.