So she peeped along the passage, then returning, crept back to her bed like a snake into a hole and watched.
Mr.Granger, hearing the crash, thought that the front door had blown open.

Rising, he lit a candle and went to see.
But of all this Geoffrey knew nothing, and Beatrice naturally less than nothing.
She lay senseless in his arms, her head rested on his shoulder, her heavy hair streamed down his side almost to his knee.

He lifted her, touched her on the forehead with his lips and laid her on the bed.

What was to be done?
Bring her back to life?
No, he dared not--not here.
While she lay thus her helplessness protected her; but if once more she was a living, loving woman here and so--oh, how should they escape?
He dared not touch her or look towards her--till he had made up his mind.
It was soon done.

Here she must not bide, and since of herself she could not go, why he must take her now, this moment! However far Geoffrey fell short of virtue's stricter standard, let this always be remembered in his favour.
He opened the door, and as he did so, thought that he heard some one stirring in the house.