have--but she did not understand, and she could not see her way
through the darkness that was like a pall wrapped about her--and it was
hard just to grope out amidst surroundings that revolted her and made
her soul sick. It was hard to do this and--and still keep her courage
and her faith.

She shook her head presently as she went along, shook it reprovingly at
herself, and the little shoulders squared resolutely back. There must
be, and there would be, a way out of it all, and meanwhile her position,
bad as it was, was not without, at least, a certain compensation. There
had been the Sparrow the other night whom she had been able to save,
and to-night there was Nicky Viner. She could not be blind to that. Who
knew! It might be for just such very purposes that her life had been
turned into these new channels!

She looked around her sharply now. She had reached the lower section
of Sixth Avenue. Perlmer's office, according to the address given, was
still a little farther on. She walked briskly. It was very different
to-night, thanks to her veil! It had been horrible that other night,
when she had ventured out as the White Moll and had been forced to keep
to the dark alleyways and lanes, and the unfrequented streets!

And now, through a jeweler's window, she noted the time, and knew a
further sense of relief. It was even earlier than she had imagined. It
was not quite ten o'clock; she would, at least, be close on the heels of
Perlmer's departure from his office, if not actually ahead of time, and
therefore she would be first on the scene, and--yes, this was the place;
here was Perlmer's name amongst those on the name-plate at the street
entrance of a small three-story building.

She entered the hallway, and found it deserted. It was a rather dirty
and unkempt place, and very poorly lighted--a single incandescent alone
burned in the hall. Perlmer's room, so the name-plate indicated, was
Number Eleven, and on the next floor.

She mounted the stairs, and paused on the landing to look around her
again. Here, too, the hallway was lighted by but a single lamp; and
here, too, an air of desertion was in evidence. The office tenants, it
was fairly obvious, were not habitual night workers, for not a ray of
light came from any of the glass-paneled doors that flanked both sides
of the passage. She nodded her head sharply in satisfaction. It was
equally obvious that Perlmer had already gone. It would take her but a
moment, then,