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The excerpt represents the core issue or deciding factor on which you must meditate, and is drawn from The White Moll by Frank L. Packard: just light enough to see. The shadow moved forward and came inside.
She wanted to scream, to rush madly in retreat to the farthest
corner of the shed; but she could not move. It was Danglar who was
standing there. He seemed to sway a little on his feet, and the dark,
sinister face seemed blotched, and he seemed to smile as though
possessed of some unholy and perverted sense of humor.
She was helpless, at his mercy, unarmed, saved for her wits. Her wits!
Were wits any longer of avail? She could believe nothing else now
except that he had been watching her - before he struck.
"What are you doing here, and what are those clothes you've got in
your hands?" he rasped out.
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