Then came a realization which, though in a sense gradual, made us step back and catch our breath.

Two large dim human eyes were so close to us that the window itself seemed suddenly to be a mask.

A pale human face was pressed against the glass within, and with increased distinctness, with the increase of the opening came the words: "When shall I get out ?" "What can all this be ?" I said.
Rupert made no answer, but lifting his walking-stick and pointing the ferrule like a fencing sword at the glass, punched a hole in it, smaller and more accurate than I should have supposed possible.

The moment he had done so the voice spouted out of the hole, so to speak, piercing and querulous and clear, making the same demand for liberty.
"Can't you get out, madam ?" I said, drawing near the hole in some perturbation.
"Get out?
Of course I can't," moaned the unknown female bitterly.

"They won't let me.