Page:Frank Packard - The White Moll.djvu/55

 limbs had not strength to support her. And for a moment she hung there, then she locked the door, staggered back, sank down on the edge of the bed, and, with her chin in her hands, stared at the guttering stub of candle. And presently, in an almost aimless, mechanical way, she felt in her pocket for the piece of paper that she had found wrapped around the key, and drew it out. There were three figures scrawled upon—it nothing else.

She dropped her chin in her hands again, and stared again at the candle.

And after a while the candle went out.