“It’s easy enough,” he said. “The door’s open, and we’re soon on the balcony.”
He set the ladder securely. Beatrice cursed him for a slow, officious fool. He tested the ladder, to see it was safe, then he cautiously clambered up. At the top he stood leaning sideways, bending over the ladder to peer into the room. He could see all sorts of things, for he was frightened.
“I say there!” he called loudly.
Beatrice stood below in horrible suspense.
“Go in!” she cried. “Go in! Is he there?”
The man stepped very cautiously with one foot on to the balcony, and peered forward. But the glass door reflected into his eyes. He followed slowly with the other foot, and crept forward, ready at any moment to take flight.
“Hie, hie!” he suddenly cried in terror, and he drew back.
Beatrice was opening her mouth to scream, when the window-cleaner exclaimed weakly, as if dubious:
“I believe ’e’s ’anged ’imself from the door-’ooks!”
“No!” cried Beatrice. “No, no, no!”