She laid aside her book and softly rose.
Her first intention was to go to the door and see if Peter were in the passage.

But the very fact of moving seemed to give her courage.

The man's rest would be short enough; it seemed unkind to disturb him.
Resolutely she turned to the window, stifling all qualms.

She would not be a wretched coward.

She would see for herself.
The night was steaming hot, and there was a smell of mildew in the air.
A swarm of mosquitoes buzzed in the glare thrown by the lamp with a shrill, attenuated sound like the skirl of far-away bagpipes.