"You go away, please," repeated the woman, raising her right hand and
pointing to the door whereby I had entered. "These private rooms. What
you doing here?"

Her words, despite her broken English, served to recall to me the fact
that I was, beyond doubt, a trespasser! By what right did I presume to
force my way into other people's apartments?

"There is some one in there whom I must see," I said, realizing,
however, that my chance of doing so was poor.

"You see nobody," she snapped back uncompromisingly. "You go away!"

She took a step towards me, continuing to point to the door. Where had
I previously encountered the glance of those splendid, savage eyes?

So engaged was I with this taunting, partial memory, and so sure, if
the woman would but uncover her face, of instantly recognizing her,
that still I hesitated. Whereupon, glancing rapidly over her shoulder
into whatever place lay beyond the curtained doorway, she suddenly
stepped back and vanished, drawing the curtains to with an angry jerk.

I heard her retiring footsteps; then came a loud bang. If her object
in intercepting me had been to cover the slow retreat of some one she
had succeeded.

Recognizing that I had cut a truly sorry figure in the encounter, I
retraced my steps.

By what route I ultimately regained the main staircase I have no idea;