and the door was shut.

Max stared down at the closed door in perplexity and dismay. In spite of
all his adventures in that very doubtful house, or, perhaps, because of
them, his interest in Carrie, of the blue eyes and the wonderful voice,
was as strong as ever. Hovering between trust and mistrust, he told
himself at this point that she was nothing in the world but the thieves'
decoy he had at first suspected. But in that case, why had he himself
not been robbed? He wore a valuable watch; he had gold and notes in his
purse. And no attempt had been made to relieve him of either the one or
the other.

And the foolish fellow began to consider and to weigh one thing with the
other, and to become more and more eager to see the girl again if it
were only to upbraid her for her deceit, until he ended by slipping down
to the ground, going boldly to the door of the outhouse, and giving two
knocks, a pause, and two knocks more.

As he had expected, Carrie herself, after an interval of only a few
seconds, opened the door.

There was a little light in the outhouse, and none outside; and Max,
having taken a couple of steps to the left, she at first saw nobody. So
she made a step forward. Max instantly put himself between her and the
door.

On recognizing him, Carrie started, but uttered no sound, no word.

"I want to speak to you," said Max, in a low voice.