At ten o'clock a man walked hurriedly up the avenue. He saw no light in any part of the great building. He mounted the steps and entered the hall, where the darkness obliged him to grope his way to the room-door. He was evidently unfamiliar with the place. He knocked, but received no answer. He tried the door, it was fast. He knocked again, thundered, waited, but no one came. Again he knocked, louder than before, and called "Tomasine."
"Yes," was answered at once from within.
A moment later, close by the door, "Is that you, father?"
"Can you not open the door?"
He knew by her voice that she was crying.
"Where is the key, then?"
"John took it with him when he went out."
A moment's silence, and then the question, "Has he locked you in, then?"
"Yes," was the answer amid her sobs.
She heard him turn away again and descend the steps, and, to her astonishment, go away without a single word.