She conceals herself in the dark shadows of her bedroom where it is quiet and where she finds peace beneath a pile of clothes where she sleeps protected and hidden; but “where is the little girl?” they will ask finding her bed empty, and “where has she gone?” when they search for her but find nothing. The window is ajar, and a breeze billows the curtain—“She has run away,” they will say, “to test the fates on this cold and windy night”—but the little girl is safe… for a while; and though always vigilant, she remains mercifully unseen, shielded and safe beneath the pile of clothes in the shadows.
Scarlet Letter,