Then, apparently, she learned that the door was open; a deeper breath
showed the relief she felt at this; now she carefully entered the
room.
Even before Pendleton's brain realized who it must be, he began to
feel a tightening at his heart; and now as he pictured her advancing
with outstretched, groping hands into the darkened room--a room
horrible with crime and secret dread--it was all that he could do to
hold himself in check. He had almost an overmastering desire to spring
up, to cry out to her, to tell her not to fear.
He was still struggling with this feeling when he became aware that
she had paused; and, also, that Ashton-Kirk was once more gripping his
shoulder with a warning hand. Becoming instantly alert, his senses
perceived a stoppage of everything; the clocks seemed to tick more
faintly, he could no longer hear the woman breathe. There was an
instant that roared with silence; then came the soft, steady padding
of feet descending the stair.
Then he heard the girl release her breath in a great, trembling
exhalation; the rustle of skirts came quick and sharp in the darkness;
he heard the door through which she had entered the room squeak upon
its hinges and then close with a click that proclaimed it fast.
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