standing by a table, looking at me.

She was very nervous, and tried to explain her presence in a breath
--with the result that she broke down utterly and had to stop. Mac,
his jovial face rather startled, was making for the stairs; but I
sternly brought him back and presented him. Whereon, being utterly
confounded, he made the tactful remark that he would have to go and
put out the milk-bottles: it was almost morning!

She had been waiting since ten o'clock, she said. A taxicab, with
her maid, was at the door. They were going back to New York in the
morning, and things were terribly wrong.

"Wrong? You need not mind Mr. McWhirter. He is as anxious as I am
to be helpful."

"There are detectives watching Marshall; we saw one to-day at the
hotel. If the jury disagrees--and the lawyers think they will--they
will arrest him."

I thought it probable. There was nothing I could say. McWhirter
made an effort to reassure her.

"It wouldn't be a hanging matter, anyhow," he said. "There's a lot
against him, but hardly a jury in the country would hang a man for
something he did, if he could prove he was delirious the next day."
She paled at this dubious comfort, but it struck her sense of humor,
too, for she threw me a fleeting smile.

"I was to ask you to do something," she said. "None of us can, for