Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1911-02-19

THE day with Thurley was one long mo-
notony of fear, disgust, and helpless
ness. The windows had been finally incur
tanned, late in the morning; but the day was
gray and dreary, while the atmosphere with
in was murky and foul with odors from be-
low and the reek of the stove that kept the
room slightly warmer than freezing.
Zagorsky remained at her captive's side
almost constantly. She seldom spoke, and
Thurley would never have addressed her
voluntarily, since questions and pleading
would have been of no avail, and conversa-
ton was impossible. As often as she en-
countered the ice blue stare of the woman's
eyes, she shuddered anew with repugnance
and the certainty of a gross, malevolent
mind behind their baleful glistening
She had found herself wrapped in an ex-
ceptionally long, gray cloak, patched and
dirty, but at least of wool, and therefore
slightly comforting in this leaky old howell,
long before abandoned as a human habita-
ton. She spent her time lying or sitting on
the bed, or walking the few feet rendered
possible by the meager length of the chain
She did not sleep again. From time to
time she heard a murmur of voices, where
the men below were repeatedly protesting
against the delays of Madam Zagorsky
Now and again the woman descended on
the trio, to soothe or to domineer, as occa-
sion might demand Never for more than
five minutes at time did she thus leave
Thurley to herself-and the girl was aware
of the utter futility of attempted escape in
such an interim, or in the glare of day.
Twice she had dared snatch up her chain
and try with her fingers to loosen the wires,
where the twisted ends were nipped and
bent over on the link. She had no intention
of doing more than barely prepare the stub
born splice for possible tampering later on;
but even this seemed quite impractical to
fingers fashioned delicately and unprovided
with tools.
On the last occasion, nevertheless, she
found an edge on the iron bed where the
twist of wire, being once engaged, was readi
ly bent backward on the link. 1t did not
break being tough and malleable, and she
barely had time to bend it once more to its
former position when Zagorsky again re-
turned.
There were no more opportunities to labor
with the wire, and at most 1T was merely
possible for Thurley to sit there planning
how, if her chance should come, she could
bend and bend that metal prong till its joint
should finally snap.
she planned all day at thousand things
~ impossible and even extravagant. No
thought had entered her mind again of at
tempting struggle with the woman. She
knew her strength could avail her nothing
in combat SO entirely unequal. And the
noise would disturb the men.
Her hope attached itself with childlike
confidence to the man Pelevin, hour after
hour. Her only fear concerning him was
that of his inability, surrounded as he was
by other men, to render the necessary help
at the vital moment. She had doubts again
of the arrival of the note addressed to the
Duke and Robley. 1t seemed to her she
was very far from all the world of Gotham
The note might be lost, intercepted. The
day being Sunday, it might easily fail of de-
livery. If no one should come that night at
nine
A fever of anxiety hope succeeding doubt
eager planning for herself, and increasing
dread and illness in this fetid room, was
flaming her cheeks and eyes. The day was
SO frightfully long, the unknown fate inn
pending and the mystery as to why she had
been thus entrapped, were SO battling and
frightening as the hours wore slowly on!
She could not have known that Pelevin,
clever actor that he was, had tricked and
deceived her with shameless duplicity, play
ing on her feelings and credulity to procure
her note to the Duke; yet she finally doubted
even him. 1t was merely the accumulated
despair to which she was the victim, making
its pessimistic inroads to her courage.
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