I pushed it open and walked in.

A woman flew to me and seized my hand.
"Shut the door," she whispered.
I obeyed and turned the light of my lantern on her.

She was in evening dress, arrayed very sumptuously, and her dark striking beauty was marvellously displayed in the glare of the bull's-eye.

The summer-house was a bare little room, furnished only with a couple of chairs and a small iron table, such as one sees in a tea garden or an open-air cafe.
"Don't talk," she said.

"We've no time.