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Page 78
They had talked for perhaps half an hour, as Constance soothed her,
when there was the sound of a key in the door. A young woman in
black entered. She was well-dressed, in fact elegantly dressed in a
quiet way, somewhat older than Kitty, but by no means as attractive.
"Why--hello, Kitty," she cried, "what's the matter!"
"Oh, Annie, I'm so unstrung," replied the girl, then recollecting
Constance, added, "let me introduce my friend, Mrs. Dunlap. This is
Mrs. Annie Grayson, who has taken me in as a lodger and is ever so
kind to me."
Constance nodded, and the woman held out her hand frankly.
"Very glad to meet you," she said. "My husband, Jim, is not at home,
but we are a very happy little family up here. Why, Kitty, what is
the matter?"
The girl had turned her face down in the sofa pillows and was
sobbing again. Between sobs she blurted out the whole of the sordid
story. And as she proceeded, Annie glanced quickly from her to
Constance, for confirmation.
Suddenly she rose and extended her hand to Constance.
"Mrs. Dunlap," she said, "how can I ever thank you for what you have
done for Kitty? She is almost like a sister to me. You--you were--
too good."
There was a little catch in the woman's voice. But Constance could
not quite make out whether it was acted or wholly genuine.
"Did she ever do anything like that before?" she asked.
"Only once," replied Annie Grayson, "and then I gave her such a
talking to that I thought she would be able to restrain herself when
she felt that way again."
It was growing late and Constance recollected that she had an
engagement for the evening. As she rose to go Kitty almost
overwhelmed her with embraces.
"I'll keep in touch with Kitty," whispered Constance at the door,
"and if you will let me know when anything comes up that I may help
her in, I shall thank you."
"Depend on me," answered Mrs. Grayson, "and I want to add my thanks
to Kitty's for what you have done. I'll try to help you."
As she groped her way down the as yet unlighted stairs, Constance
became aware of two men talking in the hall. As she passed them she
thought she recognized one of the voices. She lowered her head, and
fortunately her thin veil in the half-light did the rest. She passed
unnoticed and reached the door of the apartment.
As she opened it she heard the men turn and mount the stairs.
Instinctively she realized that something was wrong. One of the men
was her old enemy, Drummond, the detective.
They had not recognized her, and as she stood for a moment with her
hand on the knob, she tried to reason it out. Then she crept back,
and climbed the stairs noiselessly. Voices inside the apartment told
her that she had not been mistaken. It was the apartment of the
Graysons and Kitty that they sought.
The hall door was of thin, light wood, and as she stood there she
could easily hear what passed inside.
"What--is Kitty ill?" she heard the strange man's voice inquire.
"Yes," replied Mrs. Grayson, then her voice trailed off into an
indistinguishable whisper.
"How are you, Kitty?" asked the man.
"Oh, I have a splitting headache, Jim. I've had it all day. I could
just get up and--screech!"
"I'm sorry. I hope it gets better soon."
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