He tried the door and found it locked, and as he drew out his key he heard suddenly the click of the typewriter inside.

Miss Farrell was rarely at the office at night, but as Harwood opened the door, he found her busily tapping the keys of her machine.

She swung round quickly with an air of surprise, stretched herself, and yawned.
"Well, I wasn't exactly looking for you, but I can't deny that I'm glad to be interrupted.

Hope you don't mind my doing a small job on the side--" As Harwood stood, suit-case in hand, blinking at her, he heard a door farther down the hall close, followed by a step in the hall outside.
Harwood had seen no lights in the neighboring offices as he crossed the hall, and in his frequent long night vigils with his law books, it was the rarest thing to find any of the neighboring tenants about.

He turned quickly to the door while the retreating steps were still audible.
"Oh!" Rose had half-risen from her seat as he put his hand to the knob and her tone of alarm arrested him.