and,
while they rested there, the room within of a sudden grew bright.
Janet had entered it with a lamp, and, having set it down, came
forward to draw the curtains and close the shutters. At the same
moment in the other window an arm went up to the curtain and the slim
figure of Patty stood dark against the lamplight. She stood for a
moment gazing out upon the court; gazing, as it seemed to Hetty,
straight down upon her. Hetty came to a halt, crouching in the dusk
against the wall. Now that she knew of their arrival she had no wish
to greet either her sister or her uncle: nay, as her own dark shadow
overtook her--the thought of the drunkard at home in the lonely
house--she knew that she could not climb to that lighted room and
kiss and welcome them.

As her sister's hand drew the curtain, she turned and sped back down
the court. She broke into a run. The pedestrians in the dim streets
were as ghosts to her. She ought not to have left him. Heaven alone
knew how long this fit would last; but while it lasted her place was
beside him. Twice, thrice she came to a dead stop, and panted with
one hand at her breast, the other laid flat against a house-wall or
the closed shutters of a shop, and so supporting her. Men peered
into her face, passed on, but turned their heads to stare back at
her, not doubting her a loose woman the worse for drink, but pierced
with wonder, if not with pity, at her extraordinary beauty.
She heeded them not, but always, as soon as she caught her breath
again, ran on.

She turned the corner of Frith Street. Heaven knows what she
expected to see--the house in a blaze, perhaps: but the dingy
thoroughfare lay quiet before her, with a shop here and there casting
a feeble light across the paving-stones. The murmur of the streets,
and with it all sense of human help within call, fell away and were
lost. She must face the horror alone.

The house was dark--all but one window, behind the yellow blind of
which a light shone. She drew out her latchkey and at first fumbled
at the opening with a shaking hand. Then she recalled her courage,
found the latch at once, slipped in the key and pushed the door open.

No sound: the stairs stretched up before her into pitchy darkness.
She held her breath; tried to listen. Still no sound but one in her
ears--the thump-thump of her own overstrained heart. She closed the
door as softly as she could, and mounted the first flight.

Hark! the sound of a st