"If they don't find out where she is," she whispered to her companion, "she's likely to stay here and starve to death."
"I shouldn't be sorry," the other snarled. "But if you feel badly about it, it's easy enough to telephone to-morrow and tell the janitor to let her out. No chance of a cab, I guess."
"No. Not at this hour. We'll take the car down to Forty-second Street, and cross over. Are you ready?"
"Yes. I'd better put out the light, though."
"All right." The first woman moved to the door, while the second returned to the bedroom and snapped off the light. A moment later Grace saw her ghostly figure pass the couch, and then the snapping of the door catch told her that she was alone.
The thought was anything but a pleasant one. If Richard did not happen to remember Leary—she knew she had mentioned him in connection with the address on the torn card he had given her—it was by no means impossible that she might lie where she was, helpless, for days. And in that event, starvation, or what was worse, thirst, might very readily serve to fulfill the woman's predictions. She shivered at the thought of spending hours, days, in this place alone.
But was she alone? Until now, she had supposed so, in spite of the woman's remarks about "Jack," for she had heard not the slightest sound. Presently she became aware of a slow, regular scraping sound, that seemed to come from one of the rear rooms. It suggested something alive, something moving about with stealthy footsteps. Then, all of a sudden, there came a loud crash.
Grace gave an involuntary cry, or what would have been a cry, had she not been so effectually gagged. The knowledge that she lay helpless, unable to protect herself from attack, frightened her. She turned her head, straining her eyes into the semi-darkness. Something, some figure, was moving toward her from the bedroom, gliding along with swaying, noiseless steps. What it was, she could not determine; from its appearance against the darkness of the doorway it looked like a crawling figure in black.
Presently she heard the sound of breathing, and with it a mumbling noise, as though the apparition were talking to itself. Two eyes seemed to gleam through the darkness. There was a hissing yet guttural sound, human in quality, yet horrible to her ears.
And then, without warning, the figure sprang toward her, and flung its arms about her neck.