I will try and get in in the old way.

The storm may delay her indefinitely." Leaving the door, which was raised only two steps above the road, she walked to the corner of the house and stooping down, felt behind a projecting stone for what she had certainly expected to find there--a key to the front door.
But her hand came away empty.
Surprised, for this was not her first visit to this house (she had once spent weeks there and knew the habits of its mistress well), she felt again in the place where the key should be, and where she had so often found it when her friend was out.

But all to no avail.

It was not there, and presently she was in the road again staring at the closed-up front.
As she did so, these words left her lips: "And she knew I might come at any minute!" Tottering from fatigue, she caught at the trunk of a great tree which held roof and wall in its embrace.
Why did it quiver?
Why did the ground beneath her feet seem to rock and all nature darken as with the falling of a pall.

The storm was upon her.
It had rolled up with incredible swiftness and was about to break over her head.