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 There arose a trampling of feet in the hallway; and she heard Maitland's voice like a far echo, as he bade the police good night. And distant and unreachable as he seemed, the sound of his words brought her strength and some reassurance, and she grew slightly more composed. Yet, the instant that he had turned away to talk to the cabman, her fright of that unspeakable and incorporeal menace flooded her consciousness like a great wave, sweeping her—metaphorically—off her feet. And indeed, for the time, she felt as if drowning, overwhelmed in vast waters, sinking, sinking into the black abyss of syncope. …

Then, as a drowning person—we're told—clutches at straws, she grasped again at the vibrations of his voice. … What was he saying?

"You will wait outside, please, until I come out or send somebody, whom you will take wherever directed. …"

Speaking to the cabman, thinking of her, providing for her escape! Considerate and fore-sighted as always! How she could have thanked