It did not occur to Margaret to wonder that there should be a draught
at all, at the end of a closed corridor. She stood on the threshold,
resting one hand on the door-post and looking towards the stage. In the
distance she could see it, somewhere in the neighbourhood of what is
technically described as L 3, where a group of courtiers and court
ladies were standing ready to go on in the Introduction. The border
lights were up already, Margaret could see that, and just then she
heard the warning signal to be ready to raise the curtain, and the
first distant notes of the orchestra reached her ears. She breathed a
sigh of relief. The long-wished-for ordeal had begun at last, and the
tension of her nerves relaxed. The sensation was strangely delicious
and quite new to her; the quiet and solitude of the dressing-room would
not be disagreeable now, nor the steady gaze of the sallow-faced maid.
She turned half round to step back, and in so doing faced the end of
the corridor. She had not the slightest idea of what was beyond the
door she saw there, and which she had not noticed before, but she saw
that it was now not quite shut, and that it moved slowly on its hinges
as if it had been more open until that moment. So far as she knew there
was no reason why it should be closed, but a little natural curiosity
moved her to go and see what there was on the other side of it. It was
not three steps from her own door, yet when she reached it, it was
tightly closed, and when she took hold of the handle of the latch it
resisted the effort she made to open it, though she had not heard the
key turn in the lock. This seemed strange, but being under the
influence of a much stronger excitement than she herself realised, she
turned back without thinking seriously of it, being willing to believe
that her sight had deceived her, where the light was so dim, and that
the door had not been really open at all. Her eyes met those of the
maid, who had evidently come to the threshold of the dressing-room to
watch her.
'I thought that door was open,' she said, as if in answer to a
question.
The woman said nothing, but passed her quickly and went and tried the
lock herself. Though she was so very thin, she was strong, as bony
people often are. She tried the handle with both hands, turned it,
though with much difficulty, and pulled suddenly with all her might.
The door yielded a little at first--not more than half an inch
perhaps--but then it closed itself again with a strength far greater
than she could resist. She shrugged her shoulders as she desisted and
came back.