Bowden made a final bow and went to the door. Almost immediately he came back.
“Why, it’s locked!”
“What’s that?” said Garford, lifting his head.
“Why, it’s locked!” said Bowden, who felt the room beginning to reel about him.
“Yes; I locked it.”
Despite the uncanny sense of terror which began to creep over him, the young man managed to blurt out:
“But why—what does this mean?”
The woman, who understood by this time that she was fighting for her life, joined in his remonstrances.
“Dan—are you crazy—you can’t act this way—what do you mean?”