"Is that a car coming?" she said suddenly, her dark eyes on the floor.
I listened. "I don't think so," I said, and stepped out on to the balcony.
There was no sound at all. It was the dead of night indeed. I glanced over the balustrade at the car. Her headlights burned steadily, making the moonlit road ahead more bright.
"I can hear nothing," I said, coming back into the boudoir.
"Look," said Silvia, pointing over my shoulder.
As I turned, something struck me on the cheek. I stooped and picked it up. A piece of flexible cord about five inches long. I swung round and looked at the girl. On the table a pair of scissors lay by her side.
"Why have you done this?" I demanded.
She raised her eyebrows by way of answer and reached for a cigarette. As she lighted it, I saw that her hand was trembling.
"Silvia, dear, surely you don't think—"
"Must you go?"