The heavy house-door opened with a grating of the hinges; but I stood outside it, in the shelter of the portico; free, but with the rain and wind of a stormy night in October beating against me, and with no light save the glimmer of the feeble street-lamps flickering across the wet pavement.
I knew very well that my escape was almost hopeless, for the success of it depended very much upon which road of the three lying before me I should happen to take.

I had no idea of the direction of any one of them, for I had never been out of the house since the night I was brought to it.

The strong, quick running of the servant, and the passionate fury of the woman, would overtake me if we were to have a long race; and if they overtook me they would force me back.

I had no right to seek freedom in this wild way, yet it was the only way.

Even while I hesitated in the portico of the house that ought to have been my home, I heard the shrill scream of the girl within when she found my door open, and my room empty.