With a trembling hand, she gripped the latch of a door. It lifted, but the door did not open.
“Locked,” she whispered in a tone of despair.
“Try another,” was her next thought. She was away like a shot.
Again the latch lifted; again the door refused to budge. She thought she saw a dark figure pass from pillar to pillar in the place she had just left. She could not see him, but she caught the thud-thud of his feet on the cement platform.
Fighting her way against the wind, racing fast, breathing hard, she battled onward. And all the time something within her was whispering: “It’s no use, no use, no use.” Yet, setting her teeth hard, she raced on.
The man was gaining, she was sure of that. Yes, now as she looked back she saw him, only some fifty yards behind her.
This drove her to frantic effort. But to no avail. He continued to gain; a yard, two yards, five, ten, twenty.
“It’s no use,” she panted sobbingly.
And then—she could not believe her eyes—before her, to the right, was an open door.
Like a flash she was inside. Grasping the door she attempted to shut it, but the snow blocked it.