Molly was busier than she had ever been in her life, and the whirl of work had nearly swept away even her serenity.

She was very tired, too, though she was scarcely conscious of it.

Her hands went from one task to another with almost mechanical skill.
She was bending over the stove, stirring a delicacy that required her minute attention when there came a knock on the kitchen door.
She did not even turn her head as she responded to it.

"Go away!" she called.

"I can't talk to anyone." There was a pause--a speculative pause--during which Molly bent lower over her saucepan and concluded that the intruder had departed.
Then she became suddenly aware that the door had opened quietly and someone had entered.