Somebody was unlocking the door into the hall.
Chapter VII
PLAYING A PART
Dorothy ran to the door and caught hold of the knob. “Who’s there?” she cried.
“It’s I—Martin Lawson, Janet. May I come in?”
“Oh, please, Mr. Lawson, not right now.” There was a soft tone of pleading in her voice. “You see, I’ve been lying down and I’m not quite dressed.”
“But I thought I heard you speaking.”
“You did.” The real Janet, shivering by the window, caught her breath and heard Dorothy’s tone sharpen slightly. “To myself. Being cooped up like this for hours on end, I’m glad to hear the sound of my own voice. I often read aloud. But I’ll be ready shortly, if you want me.”
“All right, then. I’ll be back in five minutes. Your father is here and he wants to say goodbye.”
The key turned in the lock and with her ear close to the panel Dorothy was sure she could hear the faint tread of footsteps retreating down the hall. With her heart pumping sixty to the second, she dashed back to Janet and carefully raised the window.
“Heavens! that was a narrow squeak—” her cousin whispered shakily. “What nerve you’ve got! I nearly fainted—”