There were, to be sure, three little stools, but nothing else that one would expect to find in an apartment.

For the rest there was nothing but a series of steel drawers and strong chests, lining the walls of the room and leaving in the center very little room in which one might move about.
He had only a moment to see all of this.

Ruth Tolliver, hooded in an evening cloak, but with the light gleaming in her coppery hair, was shaking him by the arm and leaning a white face close to him.
"Hurry!" she was saying.

"There isn't a minute to lose.

You must start now, at once.