“I hope that Mr. ” They remained looking at each other for three or four seconds. If only he had known it, sympathy was almost entirely with him. He sat down beside her just as the room became darker. The entrance of the house 85 was grand, and upon entering she was immediately greeted by John’s mother, a tall, thin woman quite a few years older than Cathy Beck. Drawing a pistol, and unclosing his lantern with the quickness of thought, he then burst through an open trap-door into a small loft. “I suppose I shall have to write an answer. She could hear their footsteps upon the pavement.
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