that something was going on in the house, something that was
hideous, unnatural, unholy, the conviction of which seemed to freeze
her soul. She had not the slightest doubt on the matter: she felt it
in the marrow of her bones.

She placed her hand on her eyes, as if to shut out the horrid
certainty; the temporary deprivation of sight but increased the
acuteness of her impression, consequently, her uneasiness. She felt
the need of space, of good, clean air. The fine drawing-room seemed
to confine her being; she hurried to the door in order to escape.
Directly she opened it, she found Parkins, the over-dressed maid,
outside, who, directly she saw Mavis, barred her further progress.

"What is it, miss?" she asked.

"Mrs Hamilton! I must see her."

"You can't, miss."

"I must. I must. There's something going on. I must see her."

A fearsome expression came over the maid's face as she said:

"I was coming to remind you from madam of your promise to her not to
leave the drawing-room."

"I must. I must."

"If I may say so, miss, it will be as much as your place is worth to
disobey madam."