My round had brought me to the second door on the port side when, in the dim light, I perceived something lying at my feet, and stooped down to better determine its character.

It was the end of a very narrow light blue ribbon, apparently caught beneath the door.

Assured that she was the only one of her sex aboard, I drew the strip forth, fondled it, imagined I had seen it before, struggling with a desire to make myself known.

The door before which I hesitated was numbered "5." Whether by accident, or design, she had left the one clew I most needed.

Indeed, at the moment, I believed the ribbon had been purposely dropped.