lose control. She must escape.
She looked cautiously out into the hall.
A man, evidently a porter, sat by the front door. Fran wondered nervously if he had instructions to prevent her leaving. There was only one way to find out.
Taking a deep breath, she strolled across the marble floor, a picture of supreme confidence. The porter rose to his feet, uncertainty written all over his face. But, as Fran had hoped, none of his orders covered this unprecedented situation. Her heart thumping, she made an imperious gesture, and he bowed low as he opened the door for her to sail out into the night.
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