"Shall we let her sleep while she can?" she whispered. "It's a hideous thing that she must meet."
Atwood's look questioned the dentist, whose reply was to brush by them both and assault Amy's door.
"Amy!" he shouted. "Amy!"
They held their breath. Back in the parlor the gilt clock ticked like a midsummer mad insect; the cries of newsboys rose muffled from the street; even a drip of water sounded from some leaky kitchen tap; but from the bedroom came nothing.
Jean tried the knob.
"Locked!"
The dentist laid his shoulder to the woodwork, put forth his strength, and the door burst in with an impetus that carried him headlong; but before either could follow he had recovered himself and turned to block the way.
"Keep back, Jean," he commanded sharply. "Keep back!"
Their suspense was brief. Almost immediately he came out, closed the door gently after him, and held up a red-labeled vial.
"Carbolic acid!" he said hoarsely.