At once I was alive to the situation. All the stories of
kidnappings and white slavery that I had ever read rioted through
my head. I felt like calling out a warning. Garrick had his finger
on the switch.
"Since I have been ill, Mademoiselle, I have been doing some
embroidery--handkerchiefs--are they not pretty?"
It was coming. There was not time for an instant's delay now.
Garrick quickly depressed the switch.
Clear as a bell his voice rang out.
"Miss Winslow--this is Garrick. Don't let her get that
handkerchief under your nose. Out of the door--quick. Run! Call
for help! I shall be with you in a minute!"
A little cry came out of the machine.
There was a moment of startled surprise in the room below. Then
followed a mocking laugh.
"Ha! Ha! I thought you'd pull something like that, Garrick. I
don't know where you are, but it makes no difference. There are
many ways of getting out of this place and at one of them I hare a
high-powered car. Violet--will go--quietly--" there were sounds of
a struggle--"after the needle--"
A scream had followed immediately after a sound of shivering glass
through the vocaphone.
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