But I cannot even write of my sensations as I
stepped through that fatal portal, without a sinking of the
heart. I had, however, had suficient forsight to prepare an
alabi. In case there was some one present in the apartment I
intended to tell a falshood, I regret to confess, and to say
that I had got off at the wrong floor.
There was a sort of hall, with a clock and a table, and a
shaded electric lamp, and beyond that the door was open into a
sitting room.
There was a small light burning there, and the remains of
a wood fire in the fireplace. There was no Cabinet however.
Evervthing was perfectly quiet, and I went over to the fire
and warmed my hands. My nails were quite blue, but I was
strangly calm. I took off mother's veil, and my mackintosh, so
I would be free to work, and I then looked around the room.
There were a number of photographs of rather smart looking
girls, and I curled my lip scornfully. He might have fooled them
but he could not decieve me. And it added to my bitterness to
think that at that moment the villain was dancing--and flirting
probably--while I was driven to actual theft to secure the
Letter that placed me in his power.
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