“When will your husband return?” asked the student.

“I am afraid I don’t know,” said Vera.  She realised that the situation was now serious, but she could not keep her mind upon it.  In that house on the Quay what was happening?  What had, perhaps, already happened?...

“Where has he gone?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why didn’t he tell you where he was going?”

“He often does not tell me.”

“Ah, that is wrong.  In these days one should always say where one is going.”

He stood up very stiff and straight.  “Search the house,” he said to his men.

Suddenly then Vera’s mind concentrated.  It was as though, she told me “I came back into the room and saw for the first time what was happening.”

“There is no one in the rest of the flat,” she said, “and nothing that can interest you.”

“That is for me to judge,” said the little officer grimly.

“But I assure you there is nothing,” she went on eagerly.  “There is only the kitchen and the bath-room and the five bedrooms.”

“Whose bedrooms?” said the officer.

“My husband’s, my own, my sister’s, my uncle’s, and an Englishman’s,” she answered, colouring a little.

“Nevertheless we must do our duty....  Search the house,” he repeated.

“But you must not go into our bedrooms,” she said, her voice rising.  “There is nothing for you there.  I am sure you will respect our privacy.”

“Our orders must be obeyed,” he answered angrily.

“But—­” she cried.

“Silence, Madame,” he said, furiously, staring at her as though she were his personal, deadly enemy.

“Very well,” said Vera proudly.  “Please do as you wish.”

The officer walked past her with his head up, and the soldiers followed him, their eyes malicious and inquisitive and excited.  The sisters stood together waiting.  Of course the end had come.  They simply stood there fastening their resolution to the extreme moment.

“I must go with them,” said Vera.  She followed them into her bedroom.  It was a very little place and they 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.