He took a key from his pocket and unlocked her door.

Every day he had been going there to improve upon his work for her, and he loved the room, the outlook from its windows; he was very proud of the furniture he had made.

There was no paper-thin covering on her chairs, bed, and dressing table.

The tops, seats, and posts were solid wood, worth hundreds of dollars for veneer.
To-night he folded his arms and stood on the sill hesitating.

While she was a dream, he had loved to linger in her room.