“Ladies and gentlemen,” the sonorous voice of Brother Krosky continued, “that package began its journey to this city.”
Ah, at last, here was the story! But no. At this instant there came an audible gasp.
The ladies stared. The gentlemen stared. Krosky stared. Whence had come that sound!
Joyce could have told them. It had come from her lips. The mouse had leaped from her shoulder to her ear. That she could not stand.
She knew what the result would be: a search. A search! And then? There must be no search.
She was a person of action. Those tempting fat ankles were still before her. In front of them were the table and the candles.
Timing herself exactly, she seized an ankle in each hand and screamed.
The result was more than she had expected. The ladies screamed and plunged headlong. The table went over. The davenport went over. The candles went out. And in the darkness that followed, Joyce unlocked the door and vanished.
Ten minutes later found her quietly strolling down a path in the park.
“It is astonishing how still a place like this can be at night,” she told herself.