ent
beneath him, touched a large tin tray leaning against the wall. It
fell over with a terrible clang.

"Bock!" said Titania sharply, "what are you doing?"

Aubrey was wondering miserably whether he ought to counterfeit a bark,
but it was too late to do anything. The pantry door opened, and
Titania looked in.

They gazed at each other for several seconds in mutual horror. Even in
his abasement, crouching under a shelf in the corner, Aubrey's stricken
senses told him that he had never seen so fair a spectacle. Titania
wore a blue kimono and a curious fragile lacy bonnet which he did not
understand. Her dark, gold-spangled hair came down in two thick braids
across her shoulders. Her blue eyes were very much alive with
amazement and alarm which rapidly changed into anger.

"Mr. Gilbert!" she cried. For an instant he thought she was going to
laugh. Then a new expression came into her face. Without another word
she turned and fled. He heard her run upstairs. A door banged, and
was locked. A window was hastily closed. Again all was silent.

Stupefied with chagrin, he rose from his cramped position. What on
earth was he to do? How could he explain? He stood by the pantry sink
in painful indecision. Should he slink out of the house? No, he
couldn't do that without attempting to explain. And he was still
convinced that some strange peril hung about this place. He must put
Titania on her guard, no matter how embarrassing it proved. If only
she hadn't been wearing a kimono--how much easier it would have been.

He stepped out into the hall, and stood at the bottom of the stairs in
the throes of doubt. After waiting some time in silence he cleared the
huskiness from his throat and called out:

"Miss Chapman!"

There was no answer, but he heard light, rapid movements above.

"Miss Chapman!" he called again.

He heard the door opened, and clear words edged with frost came
downward. This time he thought of a thin tumbler with ice in it.

"Mr. Gilbert!"

"Yes?" he said miserably.

"Will you please call me a taxi?"

Something in the calm, mandatory tone nettled him. After all, he had
acted in pure good faith.

"With pleasure," he said, "but not until I have told you something.
It's very important. I beg your pardon most awfully for frightening
you, but it's really very urgent."

There was a brief silence. Then she said:

"Brooklyn's a queer place. Wait a few minutes, please."

Aubrey st