Keith might have thought that coming
in out of the dark night he had startled her. But it was not that. She
was repressing something that had preceded him. He thought that he
heard the almost noiseless closing of a door at the end of the long
hall, and his nostrils caught the faint aroma of a strange perfume.
Between him and the light hung a filmy veil of smoke. He knew that it
had come from a cigarette. There was an uneasy note in Miss Kirkstone's
voice as she invited him to hang his coat and hat on an old-fashioned
rack near the door. He took his time, trying to recall where he had
detected that perfume before. He remembered, with a sort of shock. It
was after Shan Tung had left McDowell's office.
She was smiling when he turned, and apologizing again for making her
unusual request that day.
"It was--quite unconventional. But I felt that you would understand,
Mr. Conniston. I guess I didn't stop to think. And I am afraid of
lightning, too. But I wanted to see you. I didn't want to wait until
tomorrow to hear about what happened up there. Is it--so strange?"
Afterward he could not remember just what sort of answer he made. She
turned, and he followed her through the big, square-cut door leading
out of the hall.
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