Murder at Monte Carlo by E. Phillips Oppenheim

With every flying footstep the approaching figure gained outline and distinctness. A woman! No, a girl, dressed from head to foot in black. Once she paused to look over her shoulder. Then she came on faster than ever, and from the ease of her movements and the unhampered grace of them, Roger judged that she was scantily dressed.

When she saw him, she threw up her arms and he thought that she would have screamed.