She had heard Dale's first knock on the door, and knowing it was
someone for her--perhaps Ben returning--she had begun to dress,
finishing--except for her shoes and stockings--by the time she opened
the door.
In the dim light she did not at first see the mask on Dale's face, and
she was insistently demanding to be told just where Ben's injuries
were, when she detected the fraud.
Then she gasped and stepped back, trying to close the door. She would
have succeeded had not Dale thrust a foot into the aperture.
She stamped at his foot with her bare one ineffectually. Dale laughed
at her futile efforts to keep him from opening the door. He struck an
arm through the aperture, leaned his weight against the door, and
pushed it open.
She was at the other side of the room when he entered, having dodged
behind a table. He made a rush for her, but she evaded him, keeping
the table between them.
There was no word said. The girl's breath was coming in great gasps
from the fright and shock she had received, but Dale's was shrill and
laboring from the strength of his passions.
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