and through the moaning trees and by the light of a half moon I could
see the broken fringe of rocks & long low curve of the melancholy moor.
I tossed restlessly in bed, weary but wakeful, listening to a chiming
clock strike out the quarters of the hours far away in the silence. 
And then, suddenly, in the very dead of night, I heard clearly the sob
of a woman, a muffled, strangling gasp.  The noise was certainly in the
house, but though I listened intently for half an hour there came no
other sound save the chiming clock and the rustle of the ivy on the wall.
