There would never be a better chance.
Rachel crept up the steps.

If she should be seen! She was not; but a footstep rang somewhere in the night, and on that the key was fitted and the door opened without another moment's hesitation.
Rachel entered, the door shut noisily behind her, and then her own step rang in turn upon the floor.

It was bare boards; and as Rachel felt her way to the electric switches, beyond the dining-room door, her fingers missed the pictures on the walls.

This prepared her for what she found when the white light sprang out above her head.

The house had been dismantled; not a stick in the rooms, not so much as a stair-rod on the stairs, nor a blind to the window at their head.
The furniture removed while the use of it belonged legally to her! Had they made so sure of her conviction as all that?
Rachel's blood came straight from zero to the boil; this was monstrous, this was illegal and wicked.