He stepped out of the blackness, blinking a moment at the sudden light. The woman he saw was indeed Sheila Vaughn.
"Miss Morissey?" he asked, shutting the door carefully.
He bowed and, indifferent to her questioning, remained sweeping the room with precise scrutiny. In the walls the same decrepitude was manifest, in the furniture the same infirmity. A patch of brown paper replaced a pane in the window, the globe on the gas-jet was bitten and smoked. On the rakish bed was laid out the green silk dress, a clothes brush on top. In its place she wore a soiled muslin, raveled at the cuffs and the neck, while the neat boots had given way to frayed red slippers. A wrapper, a musty dress or two, in impoverished contrast to the elegance on the bed, hung from a row of pegs.
The eye of the lawyer, after noting each evidence of unusual poverty, rested on the table where a few photographs were displayed. He advanced and picking up each in turn said pleasantly:
"Ah, Miss Morissey, you have had a career?"
The woman, who had followed him with amazement and alarm, said stiffly:
"Miss Morissey," Bofinger said, replacing the photographs with a nod, "I want to see you on business--particular business. Can I sit down?"
Reassured by the matter-of-fact method of his address, she motioned him to a chair, drawing one for herself.
"If you please, I'll sit here," he said, placing himself so that the light would fall on her face. He drew his glasses, peered at her earnestly, and began:
"My dear Miss Morissey, you are certainly a most interesting person--pardon me if I am too curious."
The interjection escaped her. Immediately she rallied, rose and shifted her chair, that the light might be equally shared. Her eyes showed anxiety but more interest, as she asked with false calm:
"Then what do you want with--Miss Vaughn?"
"Sheila Vaughn," Bofinger said loudly, thinking the time right to overwhelm her, "I represent Mr. Max Fargus."
He paused for evidence of disconcertion, but whatever her emotions she replied evenly:
"Mr. Fargus has commissioned me to make the most exact inquiries about you."
"Why?" she asked, studying his face intently.
"Indeed!" she said, really astonished; but the smile that succeeded showed him she was not the dupe of the subterfuge.