She was the last person the Gray Phantom had expected to see at that moment, and this was the last place where he would have dreamed of finding her. He stared into her face until the flame of the match bit his fingers.
“You!” He dropped the stub and trampled it under his foot. She stood rigid in the shadows, and the wan glint of the pistol barrel told that she was still pointing the weapon at him. Her breath came fast, with little soblike gasps, as if she were trying to stifle a violent emotion.
“How did you get here?” she demanded, her voice scarcely above a whisper.
“By a tight squeeze,” he said lightly. “I must be a sight.”
“You came through the—tunnel?”
“I did as a matter of fact, though I don’t see how you guessed it.”
Staring at her through the dusk, the Phantom was conscious that his statement had exerted a profound effect upon her. She drew a long breath, and her figure, scarcely distinguishable in the gloom, seemed to shrink away from him.
“Oh!” she exclaimed, an odd throb in her voice. “Then you did it!”
“Did what?”