bare save
that at a second door, opposite to him, stood a figure at the sight of
which he paused for a moment in his advance.

The figure was simply that of a robust policeman, in his helmet and
brass buttons--a policeman who was expecting him--Ransom could see that
in a twinkling. He judged in the same space of time that Olive
Chancellor had heard of his having arrived and had applied for the
protection of this functionary, who was now simply guarding the ingress
and was prepared to defend it against all comers. There was a slight
element of surprise in this, as he had reasoned that his nervous
kinswoman was absent from her house for the day--had been spending it
all in Verena's retreat, wherever that was. The surprise was not great
enough, however, to interrupt his course for more than an instant, and
he crossed the room and stood before the belted sentinel. For a moment
neither spoke; they looked at each other very hard in the eyes, and
Ransom heard the organ, beyond partitions, launching its waves of sound
through the hall. They seemed to be very near it, and the whole place
vibrated. The policeman was a tall, lean-faced, sallow man, with a stoop
of the shoulders, a small, steady eye, and something in his mouth which
made a protuberance in his cheek. Ransom could see that he was very
strong, but he believed that he himself was not materially less so.
However, he had not come there to show physical fight--a public tussle
about Verena was not an attractive idea, except perhaps, after all, if
he should get the worst of it, from the point of view of Olive's new
system of advertising; and, moreover, it would not be in the least
necessary. Still he said nothing, and still the policeman remained dumb,
and there was something in the way the moments elapsed and in our young
man's consciousness that Verena was separated from him only by a couple
of thin planks, which made him feel that she too expected him, but in
another sense; that she had nothing to do with this parade of
resistance, that she would know in a moment, by quick intuition, that he
was there, and that she was only praying to be rescued, to be saved.
Face to face with Olive she hadn't the courage, but she would have it
with her hand in his. It came to him that there was no one in the world
less sure of her business just at that moment than Olive Chancellor; it
was as if he could see, through the door, the terrible way her eyes were
fixed on Verena while she held