Very softly a man, coatless and in his
socks, had stolen out from the bedroom where he had lain concealed, and
was looking in through the opening of the partly closed study door.
Virginia felt her finger-nails dig into her flesh. She stood there rapt
and breathless. Instinctively she felt that the cards had been taken
from her hand, that she was to be a witness of events more swift and
definite than any in which she herself could have borne the
principal part.
Norris Vine was absorbed in his work. She saw him bend lower and lower
over the table, and she heard his pen drive faster across the paper. His
attention was riveted upon his task. She saw the man lurking behind the
door come gradually more into evidence. He was a stranger to her, but
she could see that he was an athlete by his broad shoulders, his long
arms, and his graceful poise, as he lurked there almost like a tiger
preparing for a spring. Of what his plan might be she could form no
idea. Every pulse in her body was beating as it had never beat before.
Her breath was coming sharply and quickly, and it was all that she could
do to keep back the sobs which seemed to rise in her throat from pure
excitement.
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