This gave enough glimmer on the broad open landing for him to grope his way by, and he went noiselessly toward the staircase leading up to Beatty's rooms.

Once, just as he reached it, he thought he caught the faint noise of low talking somewhere in the house, an indeterminate sound not to be located.

But when he paused to listen, it had ceased and he supposed it to be only a windy murmur of the night.
He gained the nursery wing.

So far, of course, the way was perfectly familiar.

He rarely passed an evening without going to kiss Beatty in her cot.