I stretched my arms out across the little white bed where I had slept so happily, despite the ghosts.

I laid my face upon them and stayed there in a trance of misery.
I heard my grandmother pause at the door and listen as she went down the corridor to her bedroom, and I dreaded that she should come in; but, perhaps, thinking from the silence that I was asleep she went on after the pause.
I must have fallen asleep in that comfortless position for when I awoke I was chilled and stiff.

There was white moonlight in the room, and I heard, with a sinking of my heart, the crying of the woman in the shrubbery.

She always came when there was trouble.

Well, God knows, there was trouble enough now, such a coil of trouble for me that death had been an easy way out of it.
I crept into bed and thought miserably of what Anthony Cardew would think of me when he should hear of my disgrace.