"Who--_who_?" she demanded, her voice scarcely more than a rasp.
"That I didn't linger to learn. I saw them as I was polkaing past upon my trusty steed just now. Thought you mightn't know."
She turned her head and spoke as if to some one within the room.
"Oh, what shall we do? If they've solved the cryptogram--if they find----"
She checked other disclosures; again faced the volunteer messenger, now frowning.
When no suggestion as to what they could do came from the person who would seem to be the other half of her "we," Pape made cheerful offering: "The taxi-hack that conveyed me cross-town is ticking time down in the street. It is at your service, miss or madam, with or without yours truly."
She gave him a startled glance, whether for his mode of address or his offer, he could not be sure; then spent a moment in urgent thought.
"_Would_ you wait for me a few minutes?" She all at once announced her decision.
Without need of his answer, without a verbal thank-you or suggestion of apology, she closed the door in his face and, by way of insult to injury, turned the key inside.
Seeing nothing better to do, Pape leisurely descended the stairs. The steps protested stridently as before, but more intelligibly now.
"She doesn't look it," shrieked the top one. And: "She doesn't--doesn't--_doesn't_!" repeated the several next. "But she wouldn't let you in--in--in," the hard-tried middle ones. "There's something queer about it all--something queer--something queer," creaked the ground-floor last.
Within the stipulated "few" minutes Jane joined him out on the Colonial portico of long-ago grandeur. Her complete change of costume--the dingy black doffed for a small, smart sailor hat and a gray tweed that did credit to her tailor as well as herself--proclaimed her something of an artist at the alias act. Also did it quash any hope which may have been left in him that the East Side flat-house was a place of temporary sojourn. Evidently she kept a wardrobe there. The man who had greeted her so tenderly last night called the shack "home." Jane was always going off on these visits to her many woman friends--so Irene had said.
Such deductions halved his attention during the reflexes of handing her into the taxi and instructing the driver regarding the return trip. There pended a somewhat important question. Of this he reminded her by a level glance, his foot ready to leave the running-board and his hand ready to shut the door from the outside.