braced to meet its impact. She realized, with an exultation which expressed itself in an unwilled and atavistic scream of triumph, that Keudell's first shot had missed.
That shout was still on her lips when she awakened to the fact that her path along the hall was already blocked. She saw, even before she realized it was Wilsnach himself, that a hurrying body, running toward the door, was confronting her own as it staggered away from that portal of perils. She thought, as she collided with this figure, that it was one of her enemies from below stairs. Then, as she realized it was indeed Wilsnach, a new terror swept through her. She swung about and caught at his arm as he stumbled past her, reaching for his revolver as he went. For she knew that he must be stopped.
She clutched at him, clung to him, choking in her breathless efforts to warn him back. And he ignored her articulate struggles, plainly thinking her a little mad, for he shook her off, almost impatiently. She was still holding him back by his right arm, swung somewhat behind him in his effort to reach his hip pocket, when Keudell's huge figure blocked the doorway.
