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ken by the limousine. And, when he came to Black's number, he saw the limousine drawn up, waiting. In the upper story of the small but expensive house lights burned. He pressed the electric button, sighing his relief. He was grimly determined to see the thing through. His resolution was stimulated by his memory of the queue, coiled like a serpent, watching to strike with fangs bearing the poison of degradation and death. Nora stood within reach of that, perhaps, was already its victim. So when the door was opened by a sleek serving-man, he did not hesitate. "I must see Mr. Black." The servant displayed a mild astonishment at his tone. "I'm sorry, sir. Mr. Black is not at home." The lights he had noticed upstairs and the limousine gave Garth confidence. "Mr. Black," he said, "is the brother-in-law of the president of the Society for Social Justice." The servant nodded. "Then he will see me." The other was shocked. "Really, sir--" Garth gave him a glimpse of his badge, pushed past, and entered the reception hall. The servant turned, staring at him with insolent eyes. "You'll have to get out of here. Mr. Black has no official connection with the society. What do you mean by forcing--" Garth called: "Mr. Black! Mr. Black!" The servant tried to catch his arm. "This is outrageous." "Mr. Black!" Garth called again. And the response he had prayed for, the response he had made up his mind to force at all hazards, came quavering from the upper floor. "Who is that? What's all this row, Arnold?" Garth sprang up the stairs, eager and relieved at the quality of the voice. The young man of the limousine stood at the head, bending anxiously over, backed against the railing, as if to repel an assault. "I'm sorry, Mr. Black," Garth said hurriedly. "I have to speak to you about something too important for delay." He paused, embarrassed, reluctant to go on, for in the brightly lighted doorway of the living-room a woman had appeared, small, with an extraordinary grace of figure, and a face which, in a trivial, light-hearted way, impressed him as rarely beautiful. She wore evening dress. A wrap was draped across her arm. Her resemblance to Manford established her identity beyond debate. She glanced at Garth with an amused curiosity quite at variance with her husband's emotion. She smiled tolerantly. "Quite like a bearer of evil tidings in a play, but even they don't come upstairs, unannoun
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