“I thought about throwing myself down a flight of stairs or have my eldest daughter pounce on top of me,” she said.

We ascended a very darksome flight of stairs, and a door was opened by a strange little man.

John Lawson did not say another word; he turned away and slowly descended the stairs, and walked out of the house.

I would have escaped my uncle, but he waylaid me in the dark at the foot of the stairs.

She slipped past him out of the door, and he heard her light and rapid footfall as she sped up the stairs.

Her father released her, took out his pocket handkerchief, and sat down on the stairs with his head against the wall.