Out there in the crowded
street a tall, middle-aged man, with grizzled hair and mustache, was
somewhat imperiously making way for a pretty, delicate-looking lady
enveloped in white furs, and behind them, looking very handsome and
immaculate in his evening clothes, walked Mac Clarke.
Nance's eager eyes followed the group to the curbing; she saw the young
man glance at her with a puzzled expression; then, as he stood aside to
allow the lady to enter the motor, he looked again. For the fraction of a
second their eyes held each other; then an expression of amused
recognition sprang into his face, and Nance met it instantly with a flash
of her white teeth.
The next instant the limousine swallowed him; a door slammed, and the car
moved away. But Nance, utterly forgetful of her recent discomfort, still
stood in the door of the drug store, tingling with excitement as she
watched a little red light until it lost itself in the other moving
lights on the broad thoroughfare.
CHAPTER XV
MARKING TIME
Early in the autumn Birdie took flight from the alley, and Nance found
herself hopelessly engulfed in domestic affairs. Mr. Snawdor, who had
been doing the work during her long absence, took advantage of her return
to have malarial fever. He had been trying to have it for months, but
could never find the leisure hour in which to indulge in the preliminary
chill. Once having tasted the joys of invalidism he was loathe to forego
them, and insisted upon being regarded as a chronic convalescent.
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