Patience

I was more than usually cautious in opening the door. A watch's minute hand moves more quickly than did mine. Never bwfore I felt the extent of my own powers, of my sagacity. I could scarcely contain my feelings of triumph. To think that there I was opening the door little by little, and she not even to dream of my secret deeds or thoughts. I fairly chuckled at the idea, and perhaps she heard me, my stupidity. Now you may think that I drew back -- but no. Her heart was as black as pitch with the thick darkness (for the shutters were close fastened through fear of robbers), and so I knew that she could not see the opening of the door, and Im pushing it on steadily, steadily.