Her heart froze; but her limbs were strung to throw off the house, and reach air, breathe, and (as her thoughts ran) swoon, well-protected.

To her senses the house was a house on fire, and crying to her to escape.
Yet she stepped deliberately, to be sure-footed in a dusky room; she touched along the wall and came to the door, where a foot-stool nearly tripped her.

Here her touch was at fault, for though she knew she must be close by the door, she was met by an obstruction unlike wood, and the door seemed neither shut nor open.

She could not find the handle; something hung over it.

Thinking coolly, she fancied the thing must be a gown or dressing-gown; it hung heavily.