Then out of the medley of raucous noise came a cool, assured voice:

"Don't be frightened. I'll get you out."

Magda was conscious of a sudden reaction from the numbed sense of
bewildered terror which had overwhelmed her. The sound of that unknown
voice--quiet, commanding, and infinitely reassuring--was like a hand
laid on her heart and stilling its terrified throbbing.

She heard someone tugging at the handle of the door. There came a
moment's pause while the strained woodwork resisted the pull, then with
a scrape of jarring fittings the door jerked open and a man's figure
loomed in the aperture.

"Where are you?" he asked, peering through the dense gloom. "Ah!" She
felt his outstretched hands close on her shoulders as she knelt huddled
on the floor. "Can you get up? Or are you hurt?"

Magda tested her limbs cautiously, to discover that no bones were
broken, though her head ached horribly, so that she felt sick and giddy
with the pain.

"No, I'm not hurt," she answered.

"Then come along. The car's heeled up a bit, but I'll lift you out if
you can get to the door."

She stumbled forward obediently, groping her way towards the vague panel
of lighter grey revealed by the open door.