"Ah-h!" the older woman exclaimed. "That's different. I misunderstood."
She put down the signals of her wrath, succeeding in that readjustment so promptly that Lucille stared at her in undisguised amazement.
"You must pardon me, Miss Sloane. I thought you were making me the victim of your ridicule, some heartless joke."
"Then, we can come to an agreement? That is, if this money is the first——"
She broke the sentence. Mrs. Brace had put up her hand, and now held her head to one side, listening.
There was a step clearly audible outside, in the main hall. The next moment the doorbell rang. They sat motionless. When the bell rang again, Mrs. Brace informed her with a look that she would not answer it.
But the ringing continued, became a prolonged jangle. It got on Lucille's already strained nerves.
"Suppose you slip into the bedroom," Mrs. Brace whispered.
"Oh, no!" Lucille whispered back.
She was weighed down by black premonition; she hoped Mrs. Brace would not open the door.