She was supposed to carry a tambourine.

When her turn to enter came, with a look of mischief and a gay dancing step, she ran into the room.

In her hands was a guitar, not a tambourine.

When Zoe saw the guitar she gave a cry.
"Where did you get that ?" she asked in a low, shocked, indignant voice.
"In your room--your bedroom," was the half-frightened answer.

"I saw it on the dresser, and I took it." "Come, come, let's get on with the charade," urged the Man from Outside.
On the instant's pause, in which Zoe looked at her lover almost involuntarily, and without fully understanding what he said, someone else started forward with a smothered exclamation--of anger, of horror, of dismay.