“The studio next door,” she said. “They’ve gathered to see the old year out, I suppose.”
Down the hall they heard Flick calling:
“Every one this way! Greatest social function of the year!”
Then the sound of knocking, an imperative personal summons. She passed swiftly to the button and extinguished the light. Through the window a pale shadow made Dangerfield just discernible. She felt her way back and sat down near him, with a whispered caution to silence. Tootles’ and Schneibel’s voices could be heard outside in consultation.
“Oh, Miss Sonderson!”
“She’s oudt.”
“Thought I heard her coming back.”
The door of the room where they were shivered, and Tootles cried:
“I say there, friend Dangerfield, foregather!”
She put her hand quickly over his wrist to check a response. The knock was repeated.