f her folly
came the knowledge that she could not take down her hands. The whirring
grew, doubled, multiplied in volume; the room seemed to sway and rock; a
low rumbling, like thunder, filled the air. Blind terror seized her, and
shame for what she had done and could not undo, and as the office door
flew open and a sharp, angry exclamation rose above the roaring, she
summoned all her strength of will, tore away her hands, and fled, sick
with fear, through a door covered by a velvet curtain. Through a small
passage she stumbled, and then, as hurrying feet sounded behind her, and
the roaring and whirring grew momently, she wove her way among a network
of back stairs and halls and fell upon a small door under some steps,
thinking it must lead to a cellar and stupidly remembering the safety
of such spots in explosions and earthquakes--for now the whole house was
quivering with the throbs of the terrible force she had set in motion.
Down the narrow stair she plunged and hurried through the dim, earthy
cellar, past bins of coal and great coiling pipes and drains. The jar
seemed lessened here, but her humiliation and fright were no less.

"I can never meet his eyes again!" she murmured. "Will he ever forgive
me? I must find a way out, down here."

But in the dim light and her utter ignorance of that part of the house,
she could find no way out, though she went steadily away, during many
minutes, from the stair she had descended. A great rat whisked across
her foot and with a shriek of disgust she pressed the knob of a low
door, forced it open, and found herself at the head of another flight of
steps, of heavy stone. This would be a sub-cellar, she reasoned, and
drew back, but the clattering feet of the rat behind her scared away
all judgment and she plunged downward; the door closed heavily behind
her.

These steps seemed interminable, twisted like a tower, and wearied the
muscles of her legs terribly. At last they ended, and she found herself
in a great arched vault like some ancient catacomb, empty, so far as she
could see, but for cobwebs and dust. At least it was utterly silent;
there was no more of that throbbing, and her eyes had by now accustomed
themselves to the dimness. How broad this cellar might be she dared not
adventure to find out, for a few paces from the wall the darkness
swallowed everything.

"It must be that all the houses are connected at this depth," she
thought, her mind still so confused from the sh