her chest there was the beginning of a sensation, muscles
relaxing, the promise of a long breath of relief.

Her left hand--or, perhaps, her elbow; in the blinding, benumbing flash
of consternation, she did not know which--touched the pile of magazines
on the table that was set against the door-frame. The magazines did not
fall to the floor, but the fluttering of the loose cover of the one on
top made a noise.

She fled, taking with her the flashing memory of the first stirring of
her father's figure and the crackle of the paper in Mrs. Brace's hand.
In two light steps she was at the corridor door. Her hands found the
latch and turned it. She ran down the stairs with rapid, skimming steps,
the door clicking softly shut as she made the turn on the next landing.

Her exit had been wonderfully quiet. She knew this, in spite of the fact
that her straining senses had exaggerated the flutter of the magazine
cover and the click of the door into a terrifying volume of sound. It
was entirely possible that Mrs. Brace had been able to persuade her
father that he had heard nothing more than some outside noise. She was
certain that he had not seen her.

She crossed the dim, narrow lobby of the Walman so quickly, and so
quietly, that the girl at the telephone board did not look in her
direction.

Once in the street, she was seized by desire to confide to Hastings the
story of her experience. She decided to act on the impulse.

He was at first more concerned with her physical condition than with
what she had to tell. He saw how near she was to the breaking point.

"My dear child!" he said, in the tone of fatherly solicitude which she
had learned to like. "Comfort before conference! Here, this chair by the
window--so--and this wreck of a fan, can you use it? Fine! Now, cool
your flushed face in this thin, very thin stream of a breeze--feel it? A
glass of water?--just for the tinkling of ice? That's better, isn't it?"

The only light in the room was the reading lamp, under a dark-green
shade, and from this little island of illumination there ran out a
chaotic sea of shadows, huge waves of them, mounting the height of the
book-shelves and breaking irregularly on the ceiling.

In the dimness, as he walked back and forth hunting for the fan or
bringing her the water, he looked weirdly large--like, she thought
dully, a fairy giant curiously draped. But the serenity of his
expression touched her. She was glad she had come.

Whi