How it rained out there! My scanty clothing was soaked; I was wet
to the skin! I was shivering. And, each second, it seemed to rain
still faster. My teeth were chattering. The damp was liquefying
the very marrow in my bones.

And, inside that open window, it was, it must be, so warm, so dry!

There was not a soul in sight. Not a human being anywhere near. I
listened; there was not a sound. I alone was at the mercy of the
sodden night. Of all God's creatures the only one unsheltered from
the fountains of Heaven which He had opened. There was not one to
see what I might do; not one to care. I need fear no spy. Perhaps
the house was empty; nay, probably. It was my plain duty to knock
at the door, rouse the inmates, and call attention to their
oversight,--the open window. The least they could do would be to
reward me for my pains. But, suppose the place was empty, what
would be the use of knocking? It would be to make a useless
clatter. Possibly to disturb the neighbourhood, for nothing. And,
even if the people were at home, I might go unrewarded. I had
learned, in a hard school, the world's ingratitude. To have caused
the window to be closed--the inviting window, the tempting window,
the convenient window!--and then to be no better for it after all,
but still to be penniless, hopeless, hungry, out in the cold and
the rain--better anything than that. In such a situation, too
late, I should say to myself that mine had been the conduct of a
fool. And I should say it justly too. To be sure.

Leaning over the low wall I found that I could very easily put my
hand inside the room. How warm it was in there! I could feel the
difference of temperature in my fingertips. Very quietly I stepped