Let us talk for a few moments of ourselves." She held up her finger suddenly.
"Listen!" she exclaimed, in a voice of terror.
Footsteps had halted outside the door.

She ran to the window and looked down.

In the street below was standing an automobile with yellow wheels.

I was looking over her shoulder, and she clutched my arm.
"It is he--Bartot!" she cried.

"He is here at the private entrance.