“What are you doing here?” I whispered.
She cast a furtive glance toward the south door.
“Did you lock the door? Come, is there some place where we can talk? Here——” With a swift motion she pushed open the door of Room 18, and pulled me inside.
“Don’t turn on the light,” she warned me in a tense whisper. And indeed, I had no intention of so doing, for as she spoke I recalled O’Leary’s presence in the room. I looked sharply toward the bed and chair but could not tell if either were occupied.
Corole took several deep, shaking breaths before she spoke.
“I’ve been running,” she whispered presently. “I had to get rid of O’Leary’s watchdogs.” Actually there was an undercurrent of mirth in her whispered accents, though I was sure that she had recently had a bad fright of some kind.
“Did someone follow you?” I asked.
She held her breath for a second; then she released it.
“Yes,” she said. “I don’t know who it was. Sarah, I had to come here. I—I am afraid to stay in the cottage alone all night. Huldah is gone, you know. I—am afraid. Can’t I stay here?”
“Certainly not. Don’t be foolish, Corole. St. Ann’s is not a hotel.”