Isabel Ostrander,
The Twenty-Six Clues — Chapter 10
(1919)
“ It ceased as he pondered and the low, steady voice droned on: "He stops once more and listens. He hears light footsteps on the stairs of the passageway, the rustle of a gown. A woman stands in the door, he advances to her——" "A-ah!" A harsh, shuddering cry, like that of a tortured animal broke in upon the monotone. It rose from somewhere within the circle, quivered on the air and died away, but McCarty could not have told from which side it had come. He was straining every sense to grasp the intangible, elusive sensation which had stolen upon him even before that cry had cleaved the air. ”
