"Fire-escape?" echoed Zoie. There was only one and that led through the
bathroom window.

Jimmy explained no further. He was now peeping cautiously out of the
window toward the pavement below.

"Where's the mother?" demanded Zoie.

Jimmy jerked his thumb in the direction of the street. Zoie gazed at him
with grave apprehension.

"Jimmy!" she exclaimed. "You haven't killed her?"

Jimmy shook his head and continued to peer cautiously out of the window.

"What did you do with her?" called the now exasperated Zoie.

"What did _I_ do with her?" repeated Jimmy, a flash of his old
resentment returning. "What did SHE do with ME?"

For the first time, Zoie became fully conscious of Jimmy's ludicrous
appearance. Her overstrained nerves gave way and she began to laugh
hysterically.

"Say," shouted Jimmy, towering over the bed and devoutly wishing that
she were his wife so that he might strike her with impunity. "Don't you
sic any more lunatics onto me."

It is doubtful whether Zoie's continued laughter might not have provoked
Jimmy to desperate measures, had not the 'phone at that moment directed
their thoughts toward worse possibilities. After the instrument had
continued to ring persistently for what seemed to Zoie an age, she
motioned to Jimmy to answer it. He responded by retreating to the other
side of the room.

"It may be Aggie," suggested Zoie.

For the first time, Jimmy became aware that Aggie was nowhere in the
apartment.

"Good Lord!" he exclaimed, as he realised that he was again tete-a-tete
with the terror of his dreams. "Where IS Aggie?"

"Gone to do what YOU should have done," was Zoie's characteristic
answer.

"Well," answered Jimmy hotly, "it's about time that somebody besides me
did something around this place."

"YOU," mocked Zoie, "all YOU'VE ever done was to hoodoo me from the very
beginning."

"If you'd taken my advice," answered Jimmy, "and told your husband the
truth about the luncheon, there'd never have been any 'beginning.'"

"If, if, if," cried Zoie, in an agony of impatience, "if you'd tipped
that horrid old waiter enough, he'd never have told anyway."

"I'm not buying waiters to cover up your crimes," announced Jimmy with
his most self-righteous air.

"You'll be buying more than that to cover up your OWN crimes before
you've finished," retorted Zoie.

"Before I've finished with YOU, yes," agreed Jimmy. He wheeled upon her
with increasing resentment. "Do you know where I e