two before twelve
Her heavy hair came unbound , and her shaking hands refused to adjust the close coils . As it fell over her gray mantle it looked so lovely , enveloping her with the silver sheen of mist , that she smiled in sad vanity , remembering happier days , and decided to let her lover see her so . She could braid her hair at the mill . A moment or two before twelve she raised the window and swung herself to the ground . The sentry was on the rampart opposite : she could not make her exit by that gate . She walked softly around the buildings , keeping in their shadow , and reached the gates facing the forest . They were not difficult to unbar , and in a moment she stood without , free .