E. Nesbit

“ She would go to London and make a home for herself and her old nurse—give Denny a chance to give to the world the music that was in him. She would dance to thousands, and be a stranger to them all. She would fence herself round with a wall impassable. She would “keep herself to herself,” and no one should have more of her than the sight of her dancing. She had planned her white-haired disguise before she met Uncle Moses, and found in him that vein of romance which rhymed so well with hers. ”

“ Constricting her heart, came the thought that had come to her while she danced that night with that thing in her hands—that thing which was perhaps looking at her through the enwrapping towels—through the inlaid brass and turtle-shell of the cabinet door. Dead men could see through doors, perhaps. ”

“ She had the bundle of towels in her arms.
“Now,” she told herself, “open the door—quite slowly; go down the stairs and turn on the lights as you go. There is no one in the house. Nothing can leap out at you or come up behind, and—no, don’t think of that—go right on—that’s right!—light all the lights. You can leave them burning when you go up to bed. That’s it!—only one more flight. Steady!—here’s the sitting-room. You’re doing it—you’re doing it. You’re not beaten.”
She got into the room, shutting the door behind her, to be sure. ”

“ Or you might just conceivably, if you were very strong indeed, be strong enough to hold onto your sanity and your self control. But I venture to affirm that not one in a hundred women could achieve this. ”