She was on her feet in a breath, faint with fear. Yet not so overcome
that she forgot her errand, her success. As she stood up she dropped the
despatch-box back into the drawer, without a sound, and, opening her
hand-bag, stuffed something into it.

No time to do more: a dull rumble of masculine voices was distinctly,
frightfully audible in the stillness of the house: voices of men conversing
together in the inner vestibule. One laughed, and the laugh seemed to
penetrate her bosom like a knife. Then both strode across the tiling and
began to ascend, as was clearly told her by footsteps sounding deadened on
the padded carpet.

Panic-stricken, she turned to the student lamp and with a quick twirl and
upward jerk of the chimney-catch extinguished the flame. A reek of smoke
immediately began to foul the close, hot air: and she knew that it would
betray her, but was helpless to stop it. Besides, she was caught, trapped,
damned beyond redemption unless ... unless it were not Maitland, after all,
but one of the other tenants, unexpectedly returned and bound for another
flat.

Futile hope. Upon the landing by the door the footsteps ceased; and a key
grated in the wards of the lock.

Blind with terror, her sole thought an instinctive impulse to hide and so
avert discovery until the last possible instant, on the bare chance of
something happening to save her, the girl caught up her skirts and fled
like a hunted shadow through the alcove, through the bed-chamber, thence
down the hall toward the dining-room and kitchen offices.

The outer door was being opened ere she had reached the hiding-place she