He's devouring it, gloating over it." The sound of footsteps approaching down the paved walk came to them.
Loitering on the streets of a suburban town always occasions suspicion, and instinctively Constance drew Anita with her into the shadow of a hedge that set off the house from that next to it.
There was no fence cutting it off from the sidewalk, but at the corner of the plot a large bush stood.

In this bower they were perfectly hidden in the shadow.
Hour after hour they waited, watching that light in the library, speculating what it was he was reading, while Anita, half afraid to talk, wondered what it was that Constance had in mind.
Finally the light in the library winked out and the house was in darkness.
Midnight passed, and with it the last belated suburbanite.
At last, when the moon had disappeared under some clouds, Constance pulled Anita gently along up the lawn.
There was no sign of life about the house, yet Constance observed all the caution she would have if it had been well guarded.
Quickly they advanced over the open space to the cottage, approaching in the shadow as much as possible.
Tiptoeing over the porch, Constance tried a window, the window through which had shown the tantalizing light.

It was fastened.
Without hesitation she pulled out the long steel bar with the twisted head, and began to insert the sharp end between the sashes.
"Aren't--you--afraid ?" chattered her companion.
"No," she whispered, not looking up from her work.

"You know, most persons don't know enough about jimmies.

Against them an ordinary door lock or window catch is no protection at all.