myself that she was all right. I must find a hotel and get a good
night's sleep. In the morning, undoubtedly, I would see the episode in
a less romantic fashion.

As I went on, new thoughts began to press on my imagination. Such an
event as this, told in any gathering of men, why, they would smile at
me and call me the victim of an adventuress. The tale about the
father, the assumed ignorance of the conventions--how much could be
believed?

Had she not probably left her husband in some Canadian city and come to
New York to enjoy her holiday in her own fashion? Could she innocently
have adventured to Daly's door and actually have succeeded in gaining
admission? Why, many a would-be gambler had had the wicket of the
grille slammed in his face by the old colored butler.

Perhaps she was worse than I was even now imagining!

I had turned up Fifth Avenue, and had reached Twelfth or Thirteenth
Street when I thought I heard the patter of the Eskimo dog's feet
behind me. I spun, around, startled, but there was only the long
stretch of pavement, wet from a slight recent shower, and the
reflection of the white arc-lights in it.

I had resumed my course when I was sure I heard the pattering again.
And again I saw nothing.

A moment later I was hurrying back toward the apartment-house. My
nerves had suddenly become unstrung. I felt sure now that some
imminent danger was threatening Jacqueline. I could not bear the