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the garden and in that moon-flooded window he saw the face of a naked girl
pressed to the glass, her bare arm reaching through the open top pane and
trying to open the lower casement.
It seemed to Rimsky that the light of the desk-lamp was going out and
that the desk itself was tilting. A wave of icy cold washed over him, but
luckily for him he fought it off and did not fall. The remnants of his
strength were only enough for him to whisper:
'Help . . .'
Varenukha, guarding the door, was jumping up and down beside it. He
hissed and sucked, signalling to the girl in the window and pointing his
crooked fingers towards Rimsky.
The girl increased her efforts, pushed her auburn head through the
little upper pane, stretched out her arm as far as she could and began to
pluck at the lower catch with her fingernails and shake the frame. Her arm,
coloured deathly green, started to stretch as if it were made of rubber.
Finally her green cadaverous fingers caught the knob of the window-catch,
turned it and the casement opened. Rimsky gave a weak cry, pressed himself
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