That the moment she made an effort to pass that motionless, rigid form that blocked her passage to the doorway, the long, sharp knife that Liz had bought to protect her child would be plunged to the hilt in her body.
She had no wish to die that way, and still less to place the papers that she held in Miss Chandler's hands.
It was not a pleasant contemplation. She listened for an instant.
There was not a sound in the street.
She knew that she could not hope for assistance from that quarter.
The rope by which she had made her escape before was out the window, and to trust to it without having it tied about her body was a most forlorn hope.
There was but one possible way, and that she seized upon with a suddenness that threw Miss Chandler entirely off her guard.
She turned and blew out the candle.
Miss Chandler knew nothing of the situation of the articles of furniture in the room, and the darkness was intense.
Before her sister's eyes had time to become accustomed to the absence of light, Leonie circled about her and reached the door.