WHITEWASH
door she had defended swung open. In the narrow passage stood two men, their eyes fastened on the occupants of 148, and Philippa, seeing relief in their presence, sprang forward.
Her antagonist turned quickly, and caught sight of the faces before her. The change that came over her was terrible. She seemed to shrink as in the fire of a furnace. She backed away slowly, till her foot caught on the protruding corner of her bag. She stumbled against the wash-stand and clung to it for support.
Philippa, having no key to the situation, looked astonishment not unmixed with relief. She hurried across the raised threshold, trembling and pale.
"That woman is mad!" she said, brokenly.
One of the men stepped to her side and caught her with a detaining hand.
"You cannot go, madame—pardon me. You had better say nothing," he added, in a lower tone. "Anything you might say would be used against you."
"What do you mean?" Philippa demanded, fiercely.
