What shall I say to her,--how account for my comfortable wrapper and the fact that I have not yet been abed?
Had I but locked my door! Could I but lock it now, unseen and unheard before the nearing step should pause! But the very attempt were folly; no, I must stand my ground and--Ah! the step has paused, but not at my door.

There is a third one on this hall, communicating, as I knew, with a covered staircase leading to the attic.
It was at this she stopped and it was up this staircase she went as warily and softly as its creaking boards would allow; and while I marveled as to what had taken her aloft so late, I heard her steps over my head and knew that she had entered the room directly above mine.
Striking a match, I consulted my watch.

It was just ten minutes to three.

Hardly knowing what my duty was in the circumstances, I blew out the match and stood listening while the woman who was such a mystery to all her friends moved about overhead in much the same quick and purposeful way as had put life into her shadow while she was in her own room.
"Packing! Nothing less and nothing more," was my now definite decision.
"That is a trunk she is dragging forward.

What a hurry she is in, and how little she cares whether anybody hears her!" So little did she care that during the next few minutes of acute attention I distinguished the flinging down of article after article on to the floor, as well as many other movements betraying haste or irritation.
Suddenly I heard her give a bound, then the sound of a heavy lid falling and then, after a minute or two of complete silence, the soft pat-pat of her slippered feet descending the stair.
Half-past three.
Waiting till she was well down the second flight, I pushed my door ajar and, flying down the hall, peered over the balustrade in time to see her entering her room.