I stood perfectly still, hardly daring to breathe.
Then I knew I had been right. Some one was stealthily-passing the head
of the staircase and coming toward me in the dark. I leaned against
the wall for support--my knees were giving way. The steps were close
now, and suddenly I thought of Gertrude. Of course it was Gertrude. I
put out one hand in front of me, but I touched nothing. My voice
almost refused me, but I managed to gasp out, "Gertrude!"
"Good Lord!" a man's voice exclaimed, just beside me. And then I
collapsed. I felt myself going, felt some one catch me, a horrible
nausea--that was all I remembered.
When I came to it was dawn. I was lying on the bed in Louise's room,
with the cherub on the ceiling staring down at me, and there was a
blanket from my own bed thrown over me. I felt weak and dizzy, but I
managed to get up and totter to the door. At the foot of the circular
staircase Mr. Winters was still asleep. Hardly able to stand, I crept
back to my room. The door into Gertrude's room was no longer locked:
she was sleeping like a tired child. And in my dressing-room Liddy
hugged a cold hot-water bottle, and mumbled in her sleep.
"There's some things you can't hold with hand cuffs," she was muttering
thickly.