It is the same woman, I know, for she is always creeping, and most
women do not creep by daylight.
I see her on that long shaded lane, creeping up and down. I see her in
those dark grape arbors, creeping all around the garden.
I see her on that long road under the trees, creeping along, and when a
carriage comes she hides under the blackberry vines.
I don’t blame her a bit. It must be very humiliating to be caught
creeping by daylight!
I always lock the door when I creep by daylight. I can’t do it at
night, for I know John would suspect something at once.
And John is so queer now, that I don’t want to irritate him. I wish he
would take another room! Besides, I don’t want anybody to get that
woman out at night but myself.