"Wicked, wicked girl!" Mrs. Ellsworth was shrilling. "How dare you hurt
my hand? Have you lost your _senses_? Out of my house you go to-morrow!"

But Annesley did not hear. Her mind, her whole self, had escaped from her
body and rushed out into the hall to intercept Mr. Ruthven Smith. It
seemed that he _must_ feel the influence and stop. If he did not, some
terrible thing would happen--unless, indeed, the other man had heard and
heeded the warning sound at the front door. What if those two met on the
stairs, or in the room on the second floor? Her lover would believe that
she had betrayed him!

"Mrs. Ellsworth," she said in a fierce, low voice utterly unlike her own,
"you must let me go, or you will regret it. I don't want to hurt you,
but--there's only one thing that matters. If----"

The words seemed to be beaten back against her lips with a blow. From
somewhere above a sharp, dry explosion struck the girl's brain and
shattered her thoughts like breaking glass.

Mrs. Ellsworth let go the chiffon cloak and dress so suddenly that
Annesley almost lost her balance. The noise had dazed the girl. The world
seemed full and echoing with it. She did not know what it was until she
heard Mrs. Ellsworth gasp, "A pistol shot! In my house! _Thieves!
Murder!_"




CHAPTER VI