the glimmer of the fire she can just be seen standing by the
dark window-curtains, listening. There comes the sound of
subdued knocking on her door. She stands in breathless terror.
The knocking is repeated. The sound of a latchkey in the door
is heard. Her terror leaves her. The door opens; a man enters
in a dark, fur overcoat.]

WANDA. [In a voice of breathless relief, with a rather foreign
accent] Oh! it's you, Larry! Why did you knock? I was so
frightened. Come in! [She crosses quickly, and flings her arms
round his neck] [Recoiling--in a terror-stricken whisper] Oh! Who
is it?

KEITH. [In a smothered voice] A friend of Larry's. Don't be
frightened.

She has recoiled again to the window; and when he finds the
switch and turns the light up, she is seen standing there
holding her dark wrapper up to her throat, so that her face has
an uncanny look of being detached from the body.

[Gently] You needn't be afraid. I haven't come to do you harm--
quite the contrary. [Holding up the keys] Larry wouldn't have given
me these, would he, if he hadn't trusted me?

WANDA does not move, staring like a spirit startled out of the
flesh.

[After looking round him] I'm sorry to have startled you.