"No, three doors up the street, at least. That's something you must learn, and I can teach you to judge distance by sound in the darkness—"
"But I tell you," she insisted, retreating before him, "it's a risk….
There, did you hear that?"
"That" was the dulled crash of the front door.
Anisty stepped to the table on the instant and plunged the room in darkness.
"Steady!" he told her evenly. "Steady. It can't be—but take no chances. Go to the trunk-closet and get that window open. If it's Maitland,"—grimly—"well, I'll follow."
"What do you mean? What are you going to do?"
"Leave that to me … I've never been caught yet."
Cold fear gripped her heart as, in a flash of intuition, she divined his intention.
"Quick!" he bade her savagely. "Don't you want—"
"I can't see," she invented. "Where's the door? I can't see…."