He was still grinning, but now the grin had become set, satyric, hideous.

It was a mere smirk.

No mirth was behind it--nothing but passion, intense, frightful.
She glanced swiftly around, saw a window beyond the foot of the bed with a ragged shade hanging over it.

She knew the Wolf was only two stories in height, and she felt that if she threw herself out of the window she would suffer injury.

But she meant to do it.