behind the closed door. He listened in a startled amazement. His first thought was that somebody was being murdered.
“Now’s your chance! Get him! Oh, golly, missed him! Now here! There you are! Oh crums! Look out! He’s getting fierce!” These words were hurled about in tones of bloodthirsty fury by a hoarse voice he did not know, and then came shouts from Valerie. “Go it, Jimmy. Oh, you idiot! That was easy.”
Dane could curb his curiosity no longer. He opened the door and looked through. An amazing spectacle met his eyes. The composing-room was in wild disarray. Sacks and furniture and packages had been pulled away from the walls, and there was litter everywhere. He could see Valerie on her hands and knees with her back turned to him waving a dangerous rod of iron, part of the make-up frame, to be exact.
“Here you!” roared Jimmy, who did not at the moment recognize him, and who was beside himself with excitement. “Shut the door!”
Dane shut it instantly, sliding through it like a shadow. Then he saw the rat dart squealing in his direction. “Here. This way,” he called, momentarily caught himself by the fight, as he stamped to turn it back.
At the sound of his voice Valerie swung round and leapt to her feet, and for a moment she stood almost transfixed at the sight of him, while Jimmy made a lunge downwards at the hunted beast. Dane stood against the door, almost enveloped in a gray ulster, a tweed cap in one hand. He smiled engagingly at Valerie across the body of Jimmy, who was sprawling on the floor after losing his balance in a resultless plunge.
As for her, she stood like Diana flushed with the lust of the chase, her eyes brilliant, her hair tumbling down. The
