THE MAID OF THE MILL
self up, but she sank helplessly back. And slowly the bolt of the door pushed back. No one pushed it, but it slipped back. Then slowly, inch by inch, the door opened. Joan grew stiff and cold, and would not have looked but that his eyes were fixed. Wider, wider, till it stood flat against the wall.
"Then up the stairs came steps. And with them others, quick and pattering. What was that? Who walked so quickly, with padding, thudding feet? He longed for them to come in—he dreaded their coming. The door was ready for them. The room was swept and clean.
"Up, up, they came, the heavy steps and the scratching, pattering feet. Nearer, nearer—they came in. The man, large, dark, heavy-jawed; the stone-grey, snarling hound, licking its frothing jaws, straining at its chain. The girl writhed against the bed in terror—she opened her lips, but with a stride the man was upon her, his heavy hand was over her mouth. He dragged her up, shaking and sinking, he snatched the sash and bound her mouth, he held her at arm's length
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