The girl looked at him sharply. A difficult red climbed her cheeks.
“Open that door,” she ordered.
“But I can’t—not right away. I’ll have to try to——”
“Open that door instantly.”
“But I tell you I can’t. Don’t you see?” He pointed to the offending deadlatch. In embarrassed sentences, he explained the situation.
She did not appear to listen. She had the air of one who has prejudged a case.
“You are trying to keep me in this room,” she said.
Her tone was steady, and her eyes were brave; but it was evident that she quite believed her statement.
Cartaret colored in his turn.
“Nonsense,” said he.