“I got out through the door,” he confessed; “it seems a ridiculously commonplace way of leaving but that's the only way I could see.”
“And that's how I got out,” she answered, with a little smile.
“But it was locked.”
She laughed.
“I see now,” she said; “I was in the cellar. I heard your key in the lock and bolted down the trap, leaving those awful scissors behind. I thought it was Kara with some of his friends and then the voices died away and I ventured to come up and found you had left the door open. So—so I—”
These queer little pauses puzzled T. X. There was something she was not telling him. Something she had yet to reveal.
“So I got away you see,” she went on. “I came out into the kitchen; there was nobody there, and I passed through the area door and up the steps and just round the corner I found a taxicab, and that is all.”
She spread out her hands in a dramatic little gesture.
“And that is all, is it?” said T. X.
“That is all,” she repeated; “now what are you going to do?”