She was in the car before he could offer to help her. “Thank you again,” she said. 

“If only you will let me arrange it with the Wallinghams,” he faltered. 

“I will think about it.” She smiled. 

He felt that she was slipping away. “Give me some clue,” he begged. 

“Where is your spirit of romance?” she railed at him; then apparently relenting: “Perhaps the next time we meet——” 

Orme groaned. With a little nod like that which had dismissed him at the time of his first service to her, she pulled the lever and the car moved away. 

Tumult in his breast, Orme walked on. He 14 watched the black car thread its way down the street and disappear around a corner. Then he gave himself over to his own bewildering reflections, and he was still busy with them when he found himself at the entrance of the Père Marquette. He had crossed the Rush Street bridge and found his way up to the Lake Shore Drive almost without realizing whither he was going. 

14

Orme had come to Chicago, at the request of Eastern clients, to meet half-way the owners of a Western mining property. When he registered at the Annex, he found awaiting him a telegram saying that they had been detained at Denver and must necessarily be two days late. Besides the telegram, there had been a letter for him—a letter from his friend, Jack Baxter, to whom he had written of his coming. Jack had left the city on business, it appeared, but he urged Orme to make free of his North Side apartment. So Orme left the Annex and went to the rather too gorgeous, but very luxurious Père Marquette, where he found that the staff had been instructed to keep a close eye on his comfort. All this had happened but three short hours ago. 

After getting back to the apartment, Orme’s 15 first thought was to telephone to Bessie Wallingham. He decided, however, to wait till after dinner. He did not like to appear too eager. So he went down to the public dining-room and ate what was placed before him, and returned to his apartment just at dusk. 

15

In a few moments he got Bessie Wallingham on the wire. 

“Why, Robert Orme!” she exclaimed. “Wherever did you come from?” 

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