She did. It was daylight but not yet very bright, as the late fall morning was tardy in asserting itself.
“The door is open!” exclaimed Gloria. “I am sure I shut it.”
“I have always told you to lock it,” Trixy reminded her.
“But I hate bolted doors. They make me feel I’m being locked in a jail.” Gloria shut the door almost noiselessly, and then turned on the light.
“Nothing missing, that I can see——”
“Then, please, go back to bed,” begged Trixy from the other side of the curtains. “I do hate to lose the last half hour.”
“Sorry,” Gloria went to the window and looked out at the early lights and shadows. Then she quietly stole back to turn off the light that hung over her dresser.
As she raised her hand her eye fell upon a strange object. There was something, a small, white paper packet on the pin tray.
“Trix!” she exclaimed excitedly. “There’s something here——”
“What?”