CHAPTER THIRTY-ONEThe face stayed there for the time it took to miss a breath and then take two with a gasp between. Then it was gone, moving back from the pane and lost in the room behind.
Hilary went on staring up at the window. It was a fifth-floor window on the left of the common stair. Mrs. Mercer’s face had certainly been there a moment ago. She couldn’t doubt that, because even if she had imagined the face, she couldn’t possibly have imagined its ghastly look of fear. She had never seen such a look on any human face before, and she hoped she would never see it again. At the thought of those desperate staring eyes, that mouth loose with terror, Hilary knew that she couldn’t wait—she must do something at once. She didn’t even think about Henry. She ran across the street and plunged i
