ey filled it, they looked rather sheepish
now, whispering to one another.

"What's in there?" said the officer, tapping the cupboard.

"Only some clothes," said Vera.

"Open it!" he ordered.

Then the world did indeed stand still. The clock ceased to tick, the
little rumble in the stove was silenced, the shuffling feet of one of
the soldiers stayed, the movement of some rustle in the wall paper was
held. The world was frozen.

"Now I suppose we shall all be shot," was Vera's thought, repeated over
and over again with a ludicrous monotony. Then she could see nothing but
the little policeman, tumbling out of the cupboard, dishevelled and
terrified. Terrified! what that look in his eyes would be! That at any
rate she could not face and she turned her head away from them, looking
out through the door into the dark little passage.

She heard as though from an infinite distance the words:

"Well, there's nobody there."

She did not believe him of course. He said that whoever he was, to test
her, to tempt her to give herself away. But she was too clever for them.
She turned back and faced them, and then saw, to the accompaniment of an
amazement that seemed like thunder in her ears, that the cupboard was
indeed empty.

"There is nobody," said the black-bearded soldier.

The student looked rather ashamed of himself. The white clothes, the
skirts, and the blouses in the cupboard reproached him.

"You will of course understand, Madame," he said stiffly, "that the
search was inevitable. Regrettable but necessary. I'm sure you will see
that for your own satisfaction...."

"You are assured now that there is no one here?" Vera interrupted him
coldly.

"Assured," he answered.

But where was the man? She felt as though she were in some fantastic
nightmare in which nothing was as it seemed. The cupboard was not a
cupboard, the policeman not a policeman....

"There is the kitchen," she said.

In the kitchen of course they found nothing. There was a large cupboard
in one corner but they did not look there. They had had enough. They
returned into the dining-room and there, looking very surprised, his
head very high above his collar was Markovitch.

"What does this mean?" he asked.

"I regret extremely," said the officer pompously. "I have been compelled
to make a search. Duty only... I regret. But no one is here. Your flat
is at liberty. I wish you good-afternoon."

Before Markovitch could ask further questions the