Vera held her breath, listening eagerly for some answering cry from the outer world which now seemed so peaceful and unattainable. Then in the silence, she heard the sound of a man running hard in the alleys of the Maze.
“Is that you, Howard?” she called. “I hear someone running not far from where I am.”
No sooner had she spoken than the noise of running footfalls ceased abruptly.
“Is that you, Howard?” she called again, nervously.
There came a sound of rustling and tearing, then Howard’s voice sounded across the labyrinth.
“I’m here. I’m trying to get to you. I tried climbing the hedge, but it’s no good. What did you say? I didn’t catch it.”
“There’s somebody moving about in the Maze, Howard. I heard his footsteps.”
Howard Torrance’s voice replied with that baffling indeterminateness in direction which the Maze seemed to impart.
“Can you hear me, Vera?”
“Yes.”