rossed his mind, "Is it possible that her
longing could have dragged him back?" He felt as though in the
stucco-fronted gloom of Mulberry Court, Fate itself stood waiting for
him on the other side of the panel. With conscious bravado he stretched
out his hand and drew back the latch.

II

"Is it Mr. Easterday?"

It was a woman's voice that asked the question--a deep voice, thrilling
with emotion, that made him wonder what it would sound like with all the
stops pulled out. He had opened the door only a little way, expecting
that he would have to refuse admittance. At the sound of a woman's
voice, his sense of the conventions sprang to life. It must be a good
deal past ten and here he was answering Maisie's door as though he were
her butler. The kind of conclusions that could be drawn were made plain
by the caller's question, "Is it Mr. Easterday?" To be mistaken for
Easterday annoyed him. It was tantamount to an accusation. It implied
that, even though he were not Easterday, the proprietory way in which he
attended to other people's doors at after ten o'clock put Him well
within Easterday's class. Tabs was particularly annoyed to hear himself
accused by a voice so gracious and pleasant. His surprise had evidently
impressed her as furtiveness, for she said, "So it is Mr. Easterday?"

He was at a loss what to do with her--how to turn her away. For Maisie's
sake she must not be allowed to enter, for then she would discover that
they had been alone. He opened the door a few inches wider and parried
to gain time. "If it's Mr. Easterday that you're wanting, you've made a
fortunate mistake. This is Mrs. Lockwood's house. But I happen to know
an Easterday--an Adair Easterday; he's a personal friend. Perhaps he's
the man you're looking for. If so, I can give you his address."

This sally was greeted with a quiet, rather mocking laugh. He was using
his eyes, trying to form an estimate of the visitor. She had arrived in
a car, which he judged to be private, for in the light reflected from
the windshield he could make out the livery of her chauffeur. She was
swathed in a sumptuous wrap which looked as though it were of sable. She
held it gathered closely about her, so that it fell in soft folds,
revealing and at the same time concealing her figure. He was anxious to
read her face, but the lower part was snuggled into the fur of the deep
collar and the upper part was shadowed by a broad-brimmed tulle hat,
from which two bird o