"I quite agree with you."
He opened the door and went out into the entry. Gerald heard the key turned in the lock, and sat down to consider the situation. He had no idea how long he should be compelled to remain in the room, but as might be expected, he was impatient to have his captivity ended. Reflecting over the events of the morning, he felt mortified to think that he had fallen such an easy victim to an unscrupulous adventurer.
The door was locked, but there was a window. Could he escape that way? He walked to the window and looked out. There was a small yard below, but, as the room was on the third floor, the distance was too great for him to jump or let himself down. Besides, should he do so, he might be taken for a burglar or unauthorized intruder, and stand in danger of being arrested.
Possibly there might be some person in the adjoining room—some one whose attention he might attract. He judged that the partition was thin, and that any noise he made would be heard. He began to pound on the wall, gradually increasing the vigor of his efforts.
"If there is anybody there he can't help hearing," he reflected.
He was soon assured that he was right.
In a minute he heard a voice outside his door. It was the sharp, shrill voice of a woman.
"What are you doin' there, you spalpeen?" were the words he heard. "Do you want to batter down the wall?"
"No," answered Gerald, "I want to get out."
"Why don't you get out, then? What's to hinder?"