Explore "The Moving Finger" by Natalie Sumner Lincoln on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
"RAT-A-TAT! Rat-a-tat-tat!"
The imperative summons on his bedroom door roused Hugh Wyndham. It seemed but a moment since he had fallen asleep, and he listened in uncomprehending surprise to the repeated drummings, which grew in volume and rapidity. His hesitancy was but momentary, however, and springing out of bed he seized a bathrobe, unlocked the door and jerked it open with such precipitancy that Vera Deane's clenched fist expended its force on empty air instead of on the wooden panel. Her livid face changed the words on Wyndham's lips.