Still, now and then, I received a damping check to my cheerfulness; and was, in spite of myself, thrown back on the region of doubts and portents, and dark conjectures. This was when I chanced to see the third-storey staircase door (which of late had always been kept locked) open slowly, and give passage to the form of Grace Poole, in prim cap, white apron, and handkerchief; when I watched her glide along the gallery, her quiet tread muffled in a list slipper; when I saw her look into the bustling, topsy-turvy bedrooms,--just say a word, perhaps, to the charwoman about the proper way to polish a grate, or clean a marble mantelpiece, or take stains from papered walls, and then pass on.
A momenti però l'allegria svaniva e mi ritornavano nel cuore le sinistre congetture, e sopratutto quando vedevo la porta della scala del terzo piano, che in quegli ultimi tempi era stata sempre chiusa, aprirsi lentamente per lasciar passare Grace Poole che andava pian piano a dire qualche parola alle altre donne, che erano nelle camere.