He put back the cork--this time carefully--walked to the outer door, turned the key, opened the door, and closed it again with a slam.

Then, with a grim set of the lips, he walked softly into the closet and pulled the door nearly shut.
He knew there was a chance that Josephine, if she were interested in his movements, would go immediately into the sitting-room, where she could see the path, and would know that he had not really left the house.

But she did not, evidently.

She sat long enough in the dining-room for Ford to call himself a name or two and to feel exceedingly foolish over the trick, and to decide that it was a very childish one for a grown man to play upon a woman.

Then she pushed back her chair, came straight toward his room, opened the door, and looked in; Ford knew, for he saw her through the crack he had left in the closet doorway.