At ten minutes past eleven I wound my watch, so I know the time accurately.

Having prepared for bed, I drew back the heavy curtain in front of my window, which opens on the marble steps into the Italian garden.

I had put out my light before drawing back the curtain, for I wanted to have a look at the scene before turning in.

Aunt Janet has always had an old-fashioned idea of the need (or propriety, I hardly know which) of keeping windows closed and curtains drawn.

I am gradually getting her to leave my room alone in this respect, but at present the change is in its fitful stage, and of course I must not hurry matters or be too persistent, as it would hurt her feelings.