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Dell, Ethel M. (Ethel May), 1881-1939

"The Odds And Other Stories"

Then came
the note of the hooter, mockingly distinct; and then the hum of the
engine receding from the house. The outer door banged, and the icy
draught suddenly ceased.
With a loud cry she flung herself once more at the unyielding panels,
bruising hands and shoulders against the senseless wood.
"Jerry! Jerry!" she cried, and again in anguished accents, "Jerry! Come
to me, quick, oh, quick! Let me out! Let me out!"
She heard a step upon the stairs. He was coming.
In a frenzy she beat and shook the door to make him hasten. She was ready
to fly forth like a whirlwind in the wake of the speeding motor. For she
must follow him, she must overtake him; she must--Heaven help her! She
must somehow make him understand!
Oh, why was Jerry so slow? Every instant was increasing the distance
between her and that buzzing motor. She screamed to him in an agony of
impatience to hurry, to hurry, only to hurry.
He did not call in answer, but at last, at last, his hand was on the
door.
She stumbled to her feet as the key grated in the lock, and dragged
fiercely at the handle. It resisted her, for there was another hand upon
it, and with an exclamation of fierce impatience she snatched her own
away.
"Oh, be quick!" she cried hysterically. "Be quick! He is miles away by
this time. I shall never catch him, and I must, I must!"
The door opened. She dashed forward.


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