"No, clubs are all very well in their way, but I'm not a clubby person. I like to spread about among my own things. In a club too, the servants are always under your feet. In New York I like to get away from servants altogether. I am not so dependent on them as you seem to think."
Pen's heart began to beat a little thickly. "And have you such a place?" she asked with interest. Apparently they were back just where they had been before the violent scene of the previous night.
"It's a quaint little house in an unfashionable neighborhood. It stands in the name of my valet. The beauty of it is none of my neighbors know me and I can go and come as I please. It's a _petit maison_ in the French style, a little _entresol_ below, overhead three tall windows lighting the _salon_, then a receding attic, and that's all. I don't suppose there's another house like it in town."
"A _salle a manger_ on the ground floor looking out on a little formal garden at the back. On the main floor the _salon_ in front and a bedroom in the rear. In the attic, servants rooms. Just a little house for one.... Or two," he added with a sidelong glance.
"How interesting!" said Pen. "I'd like to see it."
"In what part of the town is it?" asked Pen casually.
"On Thirty-Ninth Street east of Lexington."
Pen lowered her eyes to hide the glint of satisfaction in them. "This will help Blanche," she thought. "I'll write it to-night."
Presently he rose to go. "Tell me you will," he said.
"Nothing is impossible," said Pen turning away her head. If he chose to read coquetry in the action, that was his look-out.
He held her hand loverly-wise for a long moment, Pen steeling herself not to shudder. Then he left the room.
Pen began to laugh but there was no sound of mirth in it. She began to laugh and she could not stop again. The tears ran down her face and her whole body was shaken with tearing sobs. She ran to her room. She was horribly unstrung. It was long before she could get hold of herself again.
The collapse eased the strain on her nerves. She came down-stairs and was able to resume her usual round of tasks. Time was passing, and still no bad news had been received. Hope grew stronger. Finally word was brought down the road that the search party had joined forces with the line of guards drawn across the Neck, and Don Counsell had not been taken. Pen was able to face the night unafraid.