I will call you on the telephone." She rose and made a hasty adieu before the man who had been prematurely aged might overwhelm her with questions and break down her resolution to carry the thing through as she had seen best.
Cheerily, Constance turned the key in the lock of her door.
There was no light and somehow the silence smote on her ominously.
"Florence!" she called.
There was no answer.
Not a sign indicated her presence.

There was the divan with the pillows disarranged as they had been when she left.

The furniture was in the same position as before.

Hastily she went from one room to another.
Florence had disappeared! She went to the door again.

All seemed right there.