He wheeled about, his selfcontrol all slipping from him now.

Suddenly she darted to the window, and with the hand that clenched the key she smote a pane with all her might.

There was a smash of shivering glass, followed an instant later by a faint tinkle on the stones below, and the hand that she still held out covered itself all with blood.
"O God!" he cried, the key and all else forgotten.

"You are hurt." "But you are saved," she cried, overwrought, and staggered, laughing and sobbing, to a chair, sinking her bleeding hand to her lap, and smearing recklessly her spotless, shimmering gown.
He caught up a chair by its legs, and at a single blow smashed down the door--a frail barrier after all.

"Nick!" he roared.