At least, whatever might be about to happen, she had it in her own hands now.
Neither of us spoke nor made a sound during the instant that she clung to me, the faint, well-remembered perfume of her hair, her dress, in my nostrils.

But as she started away, and I knew that she had the letter-case, the knock came again.

Then, before I could be sure whether she wished for time to hide, or whether she would have me cry "come in," without seeming to hesitate, the door opened.

For a second or two Maxine and I, and a group of figures at the door were mere shadows in the ever deepening pink dusk: but I could scarcely have counted ten before the long expected light sprang up.

I had turned it on in more than one place: and a sudden, brilliant illumination showed me a tall Commissary of Police, with two little gendarmes looking over his shoulder.
I threw a glance at Maxine, who was still veiled, and was relieved to see that she had found some means of putting the letter-case out of sight.