The speed with which she worked was extraordinary. Yet, before she moved
an instrument, a retort, a book, its position was minutely studied, so
that she could restore it to its former place without any one suspecting
that it had ever been moved.
It was while she was thus occupied that her eye fell upon an instrument
which aroused in her an excited interest. It was very like the headpiece
used by operators of telephones, and she hastened to adjust it. In a
moment it was as though she were in the library. She could hear Locke's
earnest laugh and in it Zita could detect an undercurrent of tenderness.
Her lips compressed and her eyes hardened as she listened. Locke was
speaking about a letter and it seemed to be something important. Zita
was all ears.
But Locke's next words which she heard were his decision to test the
diving-suit, and as she listened she became tense, for this information
she knew was important. The continued note of tenderness in Locke's
voice more infuriated Zita. She removed the headpiece of the dictagraph,
slammed it back into the desk drawer from which she had taken it, and
hurried out.
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