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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: edge of the escritoire for support. The shop was flooded with light.
Over by the side wall, one hand still on the electric-light switch,
the other holding a leveled revolver, stood a man.
And then the man spoke - with an oath - with curious amazement:
"My God - a woman!"
She did not speak, or stir. It seemed as though not fear, but
horror now, held her powerless to move her limbs. Her first swift
brain-flash had been that it was one of Gypsy Nan's accomplices
here ahead of the appointed time. That would have given her cause,
all too much of cause, for fear; but it was not one of Gypsy Nan's
accomplices, and, far worse than the fear of any physical attack
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