Was she there now, he wondered, gazing at the windows like a moon-struck
boy. He lingered about and fate was kind to him.
A limousine swung around the corner and pulled up in front of the door,
a few minutes later. The footman on the box sprang down. He heard her
voice as she said "Good-by" to some one. The car rolled smoothly away.
She crossed the pavement with an involuntary glance at the tall,
approaching figure.
"Jane!" he exclaimed.
She stood quite still, with the latch-key in her hand. The car was out
of sight now and they seemed to be almost alone in the street. At first
there was something almost unfamiliar in her rather startled face, her
coiffured hair, her bare neck with its collar of diamonds. There was a
moment of suspense. Then he saw something flash into her eyes and he
was glad to be there.
"You?" she exclaimed, a little breathlessly. He plunged into
explanations.
"My rooms are close by here in Charges Street," he told her. "I was
walking home from the club and saw you step out of the car."
"How could you know that I was coming to-day?" she asked.
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