There distinctly was Lucy with her head lying up against the side of the window sill and her eyes shut.

She was fast asleep, and by her, seated on the window sill, was something that looked like a good-sized bird.

I was afraid she might get a chill, so I ran upstairs, but as I came into the room she was moving back to her bed, fast asleep, and breathing heavily.

She was holding her hand to her throat, as though to protect if from the cold.
I did not wake her, but tucked her up warmly.

I have taken care that the door is locked and the window securely fastened.
She looks so sweet as she sleeps, but she is paler than is her wont, and there is a drawn, haggard look under her eyes which I do not like.
I fear she is fretting about something.