Mr.Russian Jew downstairs makes a bluff at using it for a storeroom." Again the flashlight made a circuit.

Here, there, and everywhere, seemingly without any attempt at order, were piles of wooden shipping cases.

Only the centre of the room was clear and empty; that, and a vacant space against the wall by the window.
Jimmie Dale, moving without sound, went to the window.

There was a shade on it, and it was pulled down.

He reached up underneath it, felt for the window fastening, and unlocked it; then cautiously tested the window itself by lifting it an inch or two--it slid easily in its grooves.
He stood then for a moment, hardfaced, a frown gathering his forehead into heavy furrows, as the flashlight's ray again and again darted hither and thither.