When they had
reached the street, they paused for a moment.
"I am going to make a call near here," Pritchard said. "Don't
forget that we are dining together, unless you find something
better to do, and in the meantime"--he took a card from his
pocket and handed it to Tavernake--"I don't know whether I am a
fool or not to give you this," he added. "However, there it is.
Do as you choose about it."
He walked away a little abruptly. Tavernake glanced at the
address upon the card: 1134, East Third Street. For a moment he
was puzzled. Then the light broke in upon him suddenly. His
heart gave a leap. He turned back into the place to ask for some
directions and once more stopped short. Down the stone corridor,
like one who flies from some hideous fate, came a slim black
figure, with white face and set, horrified stare. Tavernake held
out his hands and she came to him with a great wondering sob.
"Leonard!" she cried. "Leonard!"
"There's no doubt about me," he answered, quickly. "Am I such a
very terrifying object?"
She stood quite still and struggled hard. By and by the
giddiness passed.
"Leonard," she murmured, "I am ill."
Then she began to smile.
"It is too absurd," she faltered, "but you've got to do it all
over again."'
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"Get me something to eat at once," she begged. "I am starving.
Somewhere where it's cool. Leonard, how wonderful! I never even
knew that you were in New York.
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