At last it woke
her UP.
The moon was shining brightly into the room. The poultice had
fallen off her hand and it was burning hot. She fancied if she
could hold it into the moonlight that would cool it. So she got
out of bed, without waking the nurse who lay at the other end of
the room, and went to the window. When she looked out she saw one
of the men-at-arms walking in the garden with the moonlight
glancing on his armour. She was just going to tap on the window
and call him, for she wanted to tell him all about it, when she
bethought herself that that might wake Lootie, and she would put
her into her bed again. So she resolved to go to the window of
another room, and call him from there. It was so much nicer to
have somebody to talk to than to lie awake in bed with the burning
pain in her hand. She opened the door very gently and went through
the nursery, which did not look into the garden, to go to the other
window. But when she came to the foot of the old staircase there
was the moon shining down from some window high up, and making the
worm-eaten oak look very strange and delicate and lovely.
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