His guess was right. She WAS looking down through the narrow slit between the curtains. Her eyes were dark and brooding and slightly contracted by the perplexity that filled them. She started back in confusion, her hand going swiftly to her breast. Was it possible that he could see through the curtains? A warm flush mantled her face. She felt it steal down over her body. Incontinently she fled from the window and hopped back into the warm bed she had left on hearing the front door close.
"How silly!" she cried irritably. She sat bolt upright and looked at her reflection in the mirror of her dressing-table across the room. Her night-dress had slipped down from one shapely shoulder; her dark, glossy hair hung in two long braids down her back; her warm, red lips were parted in a shy, embarrassed smile.
"I wonder—But of course he couldn't. Unless,—" and here the smile faded away,—"unless he possesses some strange power to see through walls and—Sometimes I feel that he has that power. If he could not see me, why did he wave his hand at me?"
There came a knock at her door. She was seized by a sudden panic. For a moment she was unable to speak.
"Alix! Are you awake?"
It was Mrs. Strong's voice. A vast wave of relief swept through her.
"Goodness!" she gasped, and then: "Come in, Aunt Nancy?"
"Courtney Thane has just been here," said the housekeeper as she approached the bed.
"Has he?" inquired Alix innocently.
"He left a note for you."