She sighed heavily. "Would it be possible for me to wheel myself over the common and across the street? Could I ever reach that great house alive?"
She did not think the Mortons' nurse knew her, though she remembered the woman distinctly.
Then a new difficulty occurred to her. "Even if I succeed in making the journey, can I get private speech with the right persons?"
She hesitated, then she added, bravely:
"Shame on me to think of giving up!" and throwing the door wide open, with a mighty effort she pushed her chair over the sill.
It rolled down with a bump and on for a few feet until it was stopped by a sharp stone.
It was only several inches from the door to the ground, nevertheless, the jar gave her so much pain that she nearly fainted. She lay still for some moments, more dead than alive.
"I must go! I have cut off all way of return now. Bumping down that step was one thing; getting back would be impossible."
But when she tried to go on, her weakness was so great that she could not make any progress. Her chair, wedged against the stone, was immovable.