Up to her bedroom she had climbed with but one thought in her mind, the fear of waking any one.

She had struck a match outside the door, lest the scratching of it in the room should rouse Janet.
Such considerations as these her mind could grasp.

It needed a night of sleep to nurse her comprehension back to all that she had been through.

As yet, she was unable to realize it.
One by one, she took off her clothes, in the same mechanical way as she would have done if she had returned exhausted from working overtime at the office.

When she put on her night-dress, she knelt down unpremeditatedly upon the floor, held her hands together, and looked up to the ceiling, watching a fly that was braving the cold of winter, as it crept in a sluggish, hibernated way across the white plaster.