CHAPTER V


Kitty gasped, but she did not cry out. The five days' growth of
blondish stubble, the discoloured eye - for all the orb itself was
brilliant - and the hawky nose combined to send through her the
first great thrill of danger she had ever known.

Slowly she backed away from the window. The man outside immediately
extended his hands with a gesture that a child would have understood.
Supplication. Kitty paused, naturally. But did the man mean it?
Might it not be some trick to lure her into opening the window? And
what was he doing outside there anyhow? Her mind, freed from the
initial hypnosis of the encounter, began to work quickly. If she ran
from the kitchen to call for help he might be gone when she returned,
only to come back when she was again alone.

Once more the man executed that gesture, his palms upward. It was
Latin; she was aware of that, for she was always encountering it in
the halls. Another gesture. She understood this also. The tips
of the fingers bunched and dabbed at the lips. She had seen Italian
children make the gesture and cry: "Ho fame!" Hungry. But she could
not let him into the kitchen. Still, if he were honestly hungry
- She had it!

In the kitchen-table drawer was an imitation revolver - press the
trigger, and a fluted fan was revealed - a dance favour she had
received during the winter.