" With out replying Janice hung up a nutter she thought. As she put the phone down Janice looked at the front door it was locked and bolted. She felt drawn to the door, moving to it intending to check it was locked. She felt something and rather than checking the lock she found herself sliding the bolt back and unfastening the yale lock. Absolute rubbish that call she thought to herself and walked into her front room.She looked in the mirror that hung on the chimney breast and brushed her hair back with her hand. She stopped in the middle of the room. It wasn't deliberate. She simply could not get her body to move. She was frozen, paralyzed. Only her eyes seemed unaffected. She struggled with all her might, but her limbs might as well have been made of concrete. Not a finger trembled or changed position. She began to breathe heavily, and felt her chest tighten with panic. She saw herself in the mirror across the room, looking for all the world like a still photo or portrait.Her face. There was a study for Emmanuel, who never studied, and a music-room for Julie, who never played. The whole of the second story was set apart for Maximilian; it was precisely similar to his sister's apartments, except that for the breakfast-parlor he had a billiard-room, where he received his friends. He was superintending the grooming of his horse, and smoking his cigar at the entrance of the garden, when the count's carriage stopped at the gate.Cocles opened the gate, and Baptistin, springing from the box, inquired whether Monsieur and Madame Herbault and Monsieur Maximilian Morrel would see his excellency the Count of Monte Cristo. "The Count of Monte Cristo?" cried Morrel, throwing away his cigar and hastening to the carriage; "I should think we would see him. Ah, a thousand thanks, count, for not having forgotten your promise." And the young officer shook the count's hand so warmly, that Monte Cristo could not be mistaken as to the sincerity of his joy, and he saw that he had.
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