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McCutcheon, George Barr, 1866-1928

"Green Fancy"

If I do not return to this room inside of fifteen minutes, or
if you hear sounds of a struggle, crawl through the window and go down
the vines. Barnes will look out for you."
"You must not fail, Theodore Sprouse," she whispered. "I must regain
the jewels and the state papers. I cannot go without--"
"I shall do my best," he said simply. Silently he drew a chair to the
door, mounted it and, drawing himself up by his hands, poked his head
through the open transom. An instant later he was on the floor again.
She heard him inserting a key in the lock. Almost before she could
realise that it had actually happened, the door opened slowly,
cautiously, and his thin wiry figure slid through what seemed to her
no more than a crack. As softly the door was closed.
For a long time she stood, dazed and unbelieving, in the centre of the
room, staring at the door. She held her breath, listening for the
shout that was so sure to come--and the shot, perhaps! A prayer formed
on her lips and went voicelessly up to God.
Suddenly she roused herself from the stupefaction that held her, and
threw off the slinky peignoir. With feverish haste she snatched up
garments from the chair on which she had carefully placed them in
anticipation of the emergency that now presented itself.


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