tried to do, and you stopped me from doing.”

[42]

“I’m glad of that,” he said simply. And then he added, “But still I feel you are in some great vague danger.”

“What?” she queried as before. “I am here of my own choice. I go and come as I please. Whatever I may now be doing I do of my own free will.”

“Then you have a plan?”

She was silent a long moment, all the while gazing at him steadily. Then she replied, “I have.”

“May I ask what it is?”

“You have earned the right. As Robert Clifford, the man, you might not approve of it. As Robert Clifford, detective, you can find nothing wrong. Beyond this I can tell you nothing—now.”

He felt shut out—placed at a far distance—and felt the dizzy sickness once more come on him. He had met her again, after long waiting, after long search—and this was the poor ending of it all!

He saw her glance furtively at a gilded clock. Awkwardly he arose.

“I’ve kept you too long,” he mumbled.

She made no polite denial, but also stood up. He started out—and found he could not go.

He turned. “Please tell me two other things. First, why are you in hiding?”

“That I must be excused from answering.”

“Is it part of your plan?”

[43]She hesitated, then nodded.

[43]

“And your calling yourself Mrs. Gardner—is that, too, a part of your plan?”

“Yes—to the extent that I am temporarily using it to hide behind. Now you must go—please!”

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