A step was heard on the stairs; her quick ears caught the sound, and she rushed to the door to lock it. But she was too late. John held it fast.
'Kitty, Kitty,' he cried, 'for God's sake, tell me what is the matter?'
'Save me! save me!' she cried, and she forced the door against him with her whole strength. He was, however, determined on questioning her, on seeing her, and he passed his head and shoulders into the room.
'Save me, save me! help, help!' she cried, retreating from him.
'Kitty, Kitty, what do you mean? Say, say—'
'Save me; oh mercy, mercy! Let me go, and I will never say I saw you, I will not tell anything. Let me go!' she cried, retreating towards the window.
'For heaven's sake, Kitty, take care—the window, the window!'
But Kitty heard nothing, knew nothing, was conscious of nothing but a mad desire to escape. The window was lifted high—high above her head, and her face distorted with fear, she stood amid the soft greenery of the Virginia creeper.
'Save me!' she cried.
The white dress passed through the green leaves, and John heard a dull thud.