seashore. The day was one of rare beauty and warmth.
Someone was fumbling in the dark on the third floor
back.

He made his way quickly to her room, and softly
knocked, waited a moment and knocked again. There was
no response. He couldn't be mistaken. He had seen her
lean out of that window every day the past week.

Perhaps she was busy in the kitchenette and the
noise from the street made it impossible to hear.

He placed his hand on the doorknob.

From the darkness of the hall, in a quick, tiger
leap, Ella threw herself on him and grappled for his
throat.

"What are you doing at that door, you dirty thief?"
she growled.

"Here! Here! What'ell--what's the matter with
you?" he gasped, gripping her hands and tearing them
from his neck. "I'm no thief!"

"You are! You are, too!" she shrieked. "I heard
you sneak in the door downstairs--heard you slippin'
like a cat upstairs! Get out of here before I call a
cop!"