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"That's right," agreed Henry. He knocked, and, after waiting a moment, tried the latch. The door swung open, showing the place to be deserted. "Betty Amy!" called Allen. There was no answer. Then with a quick motion Henry darted forward and picked up something from the floor. It was a handkerchief. "It's my sister's," he said. "They they've been here!" He and Allen looked at each other strangely.
I had not long to wait for suddenly with a crash I heard the steel latch fall in its place. Under the effect of the heat the candle had bent sooner than I had expected. I asked Fisher what was the meaning of the sound and he explained. I passed down the stairs talking all the time. I found a cab at Sloane Square and drove to my lodgings. Underneath my overcoat I was partly dressed in evening kit.
In the hall her mesh bag caught in the latch of the screen door and dropped to the floor. Somebody was right at hand to pick it up for her. "Allow me." said a deep and cultivated voice. "Extremely annoying." It was Mr. Bane, hat in hand. He restored the bag, and as Louise quietly thanked him they walked out of the Inn together.
"Well, they kept up this tantrum for the space of two or three hundred yards, when they came to a small, low, dismal-lookin' house, when the man gave the door a kick, that sent the latch a flyin' off to the t'other eend of the room, and fell right in on the floor, on his face, as flat as a flounder, a groanin' and a moanin' like any thing, and lookin' as mean as a critter that was sent for, and couldn't come, and as obstinate as a pine stump.
He turned away from the scene and pressed his hand upon the latch. As he touched the latch someone appeared in the porch. It was an old lady dressed in black. She had soft grey hair, and on that grey hair she wore an old-fashioned cap that was almost coquettish by very reason of its old fashion.
She absently allowed him to lead her a few steps; then, with another look full of tender pity and regret at his agitated face, she extricated herself from his embrace and walked rapidly to the door. Quickening her steps to escape his pursuing grasp, she pushed through the group of sisters and fled along the hallway and up the stairs, closing the door of her cell and fastening down the latch.
I was peering westward towards the rolling obscurity of hills and woods that were just beginning to bulk out of the gloom, when I heard the click of the door latch. I should not like to be put in the witness-box and cross-examined by Jervaise as to my reason for entering the house with him that night.
Lifting her skirt daintily, she picked her way across the dirty yard, and fumbled at a door opposite the door whence she had seen old Daffady come out at dinner-time. "Who's there?" shouted a threatening voice from within. Laura succeeded in lifting the clumsy latch. Hubert Mason, from inside, saw a small golden head appear in the doorway.
Then with his left hand, he slowly turned the knob, caressing it with his fingers that it might not click when the latch was released. As he had feared, it was locked. He stood for a second or two, thinking. Then with the knuckle of one finger he tapped on the door, lightly, almost timidly. A man's voice from within, cried out, "Wait a minute! Wait a minute!"
Sárvölgyi's house was unlike Magyar country residences, in that the latter had their doors night and day on the latch, with at most a couple of bulldogs on guard in the courtyard and these were there only with the intention of imprinting the marks of their muddy paws on the coats of guests by way of tenderness.
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