She followed it past Mr.Chippen's chambers; past Mr.
Gibson's; past Mr.Turner's; after which it became her sound.

A postman, a washerwoman, a circular, a bill--she presented herself with each of these perfectly natural possibilities; but, to her surprise, her mind rejected each one of them impatiently, even apprehensively.

The step became slow, as it was apt to do at the end of the steep climb, and Mary, listening for the regular sound, was filled with an intolerable nervousness.

Leaning against the table, she felt the knock of her heart push her body perceptibly backwards and forwards--a state of nerves astonishing and reprehensible in a stable woman.

Grotesque fancies took shape.