Besides, she had her own key, with which she always let herself in.
She crept cautiously to the window and strained her eyes downward.

She was just able to catch a glimpse of two vague figures underneath in the darkness.

The light of the street lamp glinted on something one of them was wearing on his head.

It was a policeman's helmet.
The terror of the hunted took possession of her.

She sought to remain calm; her trembling lips essayed a sentence of a prayer.