With wide open eyes staring straight ahead, she half stepped, half fell through the doorway, her slender figure clothed only in her night dress. "Ruth," Mrs. Morton screamed, as she caught sight of her daughter.
The girl tried to say something, but her tongue failed her. Then, with a faint moan, she lurched forward and fell limply into her mother's arms.
PART II
CHAPTER VII
When Duvall, Mr. Baker, of the motion picture company, and Mrs. Morton rushed down the hallway of the latter's apartment in response to the screams from Ruth's bedroom, they were one and all convinced that the girl had suffered some terrible injury—that the mysterious threats to destroy her beauty which had been made during the past few days had been converted into some frightful reality.
One glance at the girl's white face as she fell fainting into her mother's arms told the detective that their fears had been, to that extent at least, groundless. The girl's lovely features, although drawn and contorted by fear, showed no signs of the disfigurement they feared.
Leaving the girl to her mother's care, Duvall, closely followed by Baker, dashed into the bedroom, and at once switched on the lights. The place, to the intense surprise of both, presented a picture of perfect quiet and order. The bed clothing was slightly disarranged, but this of course was but natural, since Ruth had sprung up under the influence of some terrible fear, and rushed from the room. Everything else seemed in its place.
Duvall's first act was to examine the window. The one fronting on the fire escape was closed and tightly fastened. It was perfectly clear that no one had entered the room in that way.
The other window, facing on the court, was raised a few inches, just as Mrs. Morton had left it half an hour before. Duvall turned to his companion with a puzzled frown.
"I had supposed, Mr. Baker," he said, "that someone had entered this room, and frightened Miss Morton while she was asleep, but that is impossible. The windows have not been disturbed."