"My stars!" she muttered to herself.
"You never can tell what you can do till you try." Then she sat down again and tried to think of other measures of defense.
Now if I were the Bat, or any criminal, she mused, how would I get into this house?
Well, that's it--I might get in 'most any way--it's so big and rambling.

All the grounds you want to lurk in, too; it'd take a company of police to shut them off.

Then there's the house itself.
Let's see--third floor--trunk room, servants' rooms--couldn't get in there very well except with a pretty long ladder--that's all right.
Second floor--well, I suppose a man could get into my bedroom from the porch if he were an acrobat, but he'd need to be a very good acrobat and there's no use borrowing trouble.

Downstairs is the problem, Cornelia, downstairs is the problem.
"Take this room now." She rose and examined it carefully.

"There's the door over there on the right that leads into the billiard room.
There's this door over here that leads into the hall.