It was the last of her single days.
To-morrow.
My heart was hideously alive again. What! Fold my hands—drown—and Evie as she still was up there.
Soft and terrible ejaculations began to break from my lips.
"Ah, would he? Would he? He would, would he?"
A clock struck half-past eleven.
This was my second stage.
I will begin the third at the moment when I pushed gently at the gate over the whitewashed area near the Foundling Hospital.
His light still showed over the leads, but the basement was in darkness. Evidently Jane had gone to bed. I felt in my pocket for his latchkey, mounted the three steps, and with infinite softness put the key into the lock and turned it. The door opened noiselessly, and I prevented the click as I closed it again by letting the little brass knob gently back with my thumb. Then silently I began to mount his stairs, passing on the way the locked box that had been put into my charge. I reached the top. The first sound I had made since entering the house was my tap at Archie's door.
"Come in!" his tenor voice called from behind the door.