“They’ll think no one’s here.” He turned and looked at her. “It’ll give me a chance—just a chance is all I want. You’ll never be sorry.”
He closed the door softly behind him.
Delia stood listening, breathless.
Voices questioned and answered on the porch below, but she could not distinguish the words. She felt as if she herself were guilty of some crime.
Suddenly the telephone bell on the wall beside her rang with startling abruptness.
She did not move. Heavy feet were mounting the stairs to the back porch.
Again the telephone rang out against the stillness in the little apartment.
She dared not move, but stood pressed against the wall. Through the darkness she could see the doorway into the lighter kitchen like a black frame.
The telephone rang again, long and insistently.
Heavy knocking shook the back door, but it got no response from Delia. There was a pause of silence and then a voice cried out with the rapidity of excitement: