How long she stood there staring fearfully at the empty window of the shed, Mary Thorne had no idea. She seemed frozen and incapable of movement. But at last, with a shiver, she came to herself, and bending out, drew in the heavy wooden, shutters and fumbled with the catch. The bolt was stiff from disuse, and her hands shook so that she was scarcely able to thrust it into the socket. Still trembling, she closed and bolted the door and made fast the other windows. Then she paused in the middle of the room, slim fingers clenched tightly together, and heart beating loudly and unevenly.
“What shall I do?” she said aloud in a strained whisper. “What shall I do?”
Her glance sought the short passage, and, through it, the cozy brightness of the living-room.
“I mustn’t let her know,” she murmured.
After a moment more of indecision she stepped into the small room opening off the kitchen, which had been occupied by Pedro and his wife. Having bolted the shutters of the single window, she came back into the 292 kitchen and stood beside the table, making a determined effort for self-control. Suddenly the sound of her aunt’s voice came from the living-room.
“What are you doing, Mary? Can I help you?”
For a second the girl hesitated, nails digging painfully into her palms. Then she managed to find her voice.
“No thanks, dear. I’ll be there in just a minute.” Resolutely she took up the saucepan and caddy and walked slowly toward the lighted doorway. She felt that a glance at her face would probably tell Mrs. Archer that something was wrong, and so, entering the living-room, she went straight over to the fireplace. Kneeling on the hearth, she took the poker and made a little hollow amongst the burning sticks in which she placed the covered saucepan. When she stood up the heat had burned a convincingly rosy flush into her cheeks.
“I was closing the shutters,” she explained in a natural tone. “While the water’s boiling I think I’ll do the same in the other rooms. Then we’ll feel quite safe and snug.”
Mrs. Archer, who was arranging their supper on one end of the big table, agreed briefly but made no other comment. When Mary had secured the living-room door and windows, she took the four bedrooms in turn, ending in the one whose incongruously 293 masculine appointments had once aroused the curiosity of Buck Green.