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Vance, Louis Joseph, 1879-1933

"Red Masquerade"


Impossible that a worse thing could await her beyond that dark
threshold....
She crossed it in one stride, swung the door to, and set her shoulders
against it.
Outside she heard the shuffling footfalls pause. The knob rattled. But
instead of the inward thrust against which she stood braced, there came the
least of outward pulls, as if to make sure that the latch had caught; and
after a brief pause a key grated in the lock, was withdrawn, and the
slippered feet withdrew in turn.
When her lungs ceased to labour painfully, she took her courage in both
hands and began to explore, groping blindly through darkness, encountering
nothing till she blundered into a table which held a glass lamp for
paraffin oil, like those in use below.
Fumbling over the top of the table, she found matches, struck one, and set
its fire to the wick.
The flame waxed and grew steady in a crusted chimney, revealing a room with
a slant ceiling and two dormer windows, boarded; in one corner a cot-bed
with tumbled blankets, near this a low wooden stand, with a pipe, spirit
lamp, and other paraphernalia of an opium smoker--no chairs, not another
stick of furniture of any kind.
Removing the lamp, the girl set it on the floor, and pushed the table over
against the door. By not so long as half a minute would its reinforcement
delay Victor when he made up his mind to get in. But in such emergencies
the human kind is not impatient of the most futile expedients.
There was nothing more she could do.


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