Her gait told the girl that she was young and graceful--something in the turn of the head made her sure that she was beautiful, too--something in the whole figure and bearing was familiar.

The blood sank from Dolores' cheeks, and she felt a chill slowly rising to her heart.

The lady entered the corridor and went on quickly, turned, and was out of sight.
Then all at once, Dolores laughed to herself, noiselessly, and was happy again, in spite of her danger.

There was nothing to disturb her, she reflected.

The terrace was long, there were doubtless other apartments beyond Don John's, though she had not known it.