Last night one of my post-dated letters went to post, the first of that fatal series which is to blot out the very traces of my existence from the earth.
Let me not think of it.

Action! It has always been at night-time that I have been molested or threatened, or in some way in danger or in fear.

I have not yet seen the Count in the daylight.

Can it be that he sleeps when others wake, that he may be awake whilst they sleep?
If I could only get into his room! But there is no possible way.

The door is always locked, no way for me.
Yes, there is a way, if one dares to take it.