Then she went swiftly to the door and tried if it was locked.

Satisfied as to this, she came quickly over to the fire, and, kneeling before it, stretched out her numbed hands to the blaze.

Almost on the instant her wet shroud began to steam.

I stood wondering.

The precautions of secrecy in the midst of her suffering--for that she did suffer was only too painfully manifest--must have presupposed some danger.