The girl stepped away, and retreated toward a corner — the very corner in which the shadow obscured the wall.
Arlette cowered, as Prokop advanced. The man loomed above the girl as she neared the corner.
“Now!” exclaimed Prokop. “Now!”
A hand appeared from the shadow — a white hand that hung above the head of the cowering girl.
She did not see the hand; it extended over her. Nor did Prokop see it, for his eyes were upon Arlette.
Upon the thumb and finger of the hand were splotches of dark powder. The fingers snapped. There was a flash of light — a puff of smoke, and a hissing noise.
Prokop cried out as he staggered backward, his hands clawing at his hooded face. He had been momentarily blinded by the sudden flash.
The pungent fumes of the powder had entered his nostrils. He was totally incapacitated for the moment.
The girl darted from the room. She could not explain what had happened. She had seen nothing, other than the bright flash above her head. The strange occurrence was the advantage that she had needed to make her escape.
WHEN Prokop had recovered from the unexpected shock, he removed his hooded robe, and stood blinking, as he gazed toward the corner.