Whatever the nature of the communication received, the girl had taken it to
indicate that Maitland had decided to spend the night elsewhere; for the
study light had burned for some ten minutes, during which the janitor
could occasionally be seen moving mysteriously about; and something later,
bearing a suitcase, he had left the house and shuffled rapidly eastward to
Madison Avenue.

So she felt convinced that she had all the small hours before her, secure
from interruption. And this time, she told herself, she purposed making
assurance doubly sure....

But first to guard against discovery from the street.

Turning back through the hall, she dispensed with the hand-lamp, entering
the darkened study. Here all windows had been closed and the outer shades
drawn--O'Hagan's last act before leaving with the suit-case: additional
proof that Maitland was not expected back that night. For the temperature
was high, the air in the closed room stifling.

Crossing to the windows, the girl drew down the dark green inner shades
and closed the folding wooden shutters over them. And was conscious of a
deepened sense of security.

Next going to the telephone, she removed the receiver from the hook and let
it hang at the full length of the cord. In the dead silence the small
voice of Central was clearly articulate: "_What number? Hello, what
number_?"--followed by the grumbling of the armature as the operator tried
fruitlessly to ring the disconnected bell. The girl smiled faintly, aware
that there would now be no interruption from an inopportune call.