punctilious landlord. Raising myself by means of the sill I
slipped my legs into the room.

The moment I did so I became conscious that, at any rate, the room
was not entirely unfurnished. The floor was carpeted. I have had
my feet on some good carpets in my time; I know what carpets are;
but never did I stand upon a softer one than that. It reminded me,
somehow, even then, of the turf in Richmond Park,--it caressed my
instep, and sprang beneath my tread. To my poor, travel-worn feet,
it was luxury after the puddly, uneven road. Should I, now I had
ascertained that--the room was, at least, partially furnished,
beat a retreat? Or should I push my researches further? It would
have been rapture to have thrown off my clothes, and to have sunk
down, on the carpet, then and there, to sleep. But,--I was so
hungry; so famine-goaded; what would I not have given to have
lighted on something good to eat!

I moved a step or two forward, gingerly, reaching out with my
hands, lest I struck, unawares, against some unseen thing. When I
had taken three or four such steps, without encountering an
obstacle, or, indeed, anything at all, I began, all at once, to
wish I had not seen the house; that I had passed it by; that I had
not come through the window; that I were safely out of it again. I
became, on a sudden, aware, that something was with me in the
room. There was nothing, ostensible, to lead me to such a
conviction; it may be that my faculties were unnaturally keen;
but, all at once, I knew that there was something there. What was
more, I had a horrible persuasion that, though unseeing, I was
seen; that my every movement was being watched.