A blouse
(which she neglected to button), a short skirt of some dark material,
a jacket, and a pair of stout walking shoes (which she failed to
lace), completed the swift transformation. She felt the pockets of
skirt and jacket, assuring herself that her purse and her own personal
jewelry were where she had forehandedly placed them. As she glided to
the window, she jammed the pins into a small black hat of felt. Then
she peered over the ledge. She started back, stifling a cry with her
hand. A man's head had almost come in contact with her own as she
leaned out. A man's hand reached over and grasped the inner ledge of
the casement, and then a man's face was dimly revealed to her startled
gaze.
CHAPTER XIV
A FLIGHT, A STONE-CUTTER'S SHED, AND A VOICE OUTSIDE
He saw her standing in the middle of the room, her clenched hands
pressed to her lips. At the angle from which he peered into the room,
her head was in line with the lighted transom.
His grip on the ledge was firm but his foothold on the lattice
precarious. He felt himself slipping. Exerting all of his strength he
drew himself upward, free of the vines that had begun to yield to his
weight.
An almost inaudible "Whew!" escaped his lips as he straddled the sill.
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