After the first warning squeak I stopped. In the next room Maxine raised
her voice--to cover the sound, I was sure. Then it had been worse even
than I fancied! I dared not begin again. I would grope about once more,
and see if I could hit upon some other way out, which possibly I had
missed.
No, there was nothing. No other window, except a small one which
apparently communicated with a pantry, and even if that had not seemed
too small for me to climb through, it was fastened on the pantry side.
What to do I did not know. It would be a calamity for Maxine if du
Laurier should hear a sound, and insist on having the door opened, after
she had given him the impression (if she had not said it in so many
words) that there was no stranger in the house.
Probably she hoped that by this time I was gone; but how could I go? I
felt like a rat in a trap: and if I had been a nervous woman I should
have imagined myself stifling in the small, hot room with its closed
doors and windows. As it was, I was uncomfortable enough. My forehead
grew damp, as in the first moments of a Turkish bath, and absent
mindedly I felt in pocket after pocket for my handkerchief.
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