Nothing was to be seen there. Then she closed the door
again, and stood looking at it meditatively for a moment. It had a lock
and key; yet it had never been locked in the years they had lived on the
Sagalac. She did not know whether the key would turn in the lock. After
a moment's hesitation, she shrugged her shoulders and turned the key. It
rasped, proved stubborn, but at last came home with a click. Then she
turned to the window. It was open about three inches at the bottom. She
closed it tight, and fastened it, then stood for a moment in the middle
of the room looking at both door and window.
She was conscious of a sense of suffocation. Never in her life had she
slept with door or window or tentflap entirely closed. Never before had
she been shut in all night behind closed doors and sealed windows. Now,
as the sense of imprisonment was felt, her body protested; her spirit
resented the funereal embrace of security. It panted for the freedom
which gives the challenge to danger and the courage to face it.
She went to the window and opened it slightly at the top, and then sought
her bed again; but even as she lay down, something whispered to her mind
that it was folly to lock the door and yet leave the window open, if it
was but an inch.
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