It was not a difficult feat
to reach the window, and a moment later he drew himself over the
sill and dropped into the room.
He found himself in a rather spacious apartment, the floor of which
was covered with rugs of barbaric design, while the few pieces of
furniture were of a similar type to that which he had seen in the
room on the first floor into which he and Bertha Kircher had been
ushered at the conclusion of their journey. At one end of the room
was what appeared to be a curtained alcove, the heavy hangings of
which completely hid the interior. In the wall opposite the window
and near the alcove was a closed door, apparently the only exit
from the room.
He could see, in the waning light without, that the close of the
day was fast approaching, and he hesitated while he deliberated the
advisability of waiting until darkness had fallen, or of immediately
searching for some means of escape from the building and the city.
He at last decided that it would do no harm to investigate beyond
the room, that he might have some idea as how best to plan his
escape after dark. To this end he crossed the room toward the door
but he had taken only a few steps when the hangings before the
alcove separated and the figure of a woman appeared in the opening.
She was young and beautifully formed; the single drapery wound around
her body from below her breasts left no detail of her symmetrical
proportions unrevealed, but her face was the face of an imbecile.
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