His knees struck the door, and there was a dull thump, not loud in reality, but like the report of a gun to him. A sudden rustle in the darkness of the room and then a sleepy voice, soft and quick, as of a woman awakening with a start.
"Who is it?"
His heart ceased beating, his body grew stiff and immovable. Again the voice, a touch of alarm in it now: "Is that you, Donnox?"
She spoke in German, and the voice came from somewhere in front and to his right. He could not answer, could not move. The paralysis of indecision was upon him.
"How is it that the outer door is open?"
This time there was something like a reprimand in the tones, still low. He almost could see the wide-open, searching eyes.