"Oh, thank you! thank you!" cried Mona, and then in low, rapid tones she briefly told her story to the listener on the other side of the door.
When she had concluded, the woman said, wonderingly:
"It is the most dreadful thing I ever heard of. My brother, with whom I am traveling, will soon be back. We are to leave early in the morning, and he has gone down to the office to settle our bill and make necessary arrangements. I will tell him your story, and we will see what can be done for you."
Mona again thanked her, but brokenly, and then overcome by this unexpected succor she sank prone upon the floor weeping passionately; the tension on her nerves had given way and her overwrought feelings had to have their way.
Presently a hand touched the key in her door.
Startled beyond measure, she sprang to it, feeling sure that Louis
Hamblin stood without.
"Do not dare to open this door," she cried, authoritatively.
"Certainly not; I simply wished to ask if you have everything you wish for the night," the young man returned, in perfectly courteous tones.
"Yes."
"Very well, then; good-night. I hope you will rest well," he said, then drawing the key from the lock, he passed on, and the next moment Mona heard a door shut across the hall.