and disappeared.

When she came back, it was with that expression I had come to know
so well. At least for a few hours there was a respite for her from
the terrific pangs she had been suffering. She was almost happy,
smiling. Even that false happiness, I felt, was superior to
Armstrong's moral sense blunted by drugs. I had begun to realize
how lying, stealing, crimes of all sorts might be laid at the door
of this great evil.

In her haste to get where she could snuff the heroin she had
forgotten a light wrap lying on her chair. As she returned for it,
it fell to the floor. Instantly Kennedy was on his feet, bending
over to pick it up.

She thanked him, and the smile lingered a moment on her face. It
was enough. It gave Kennedy the chance to pursue a conversation,
and in the free and easy atmosphere of the cabaret to invite her
to sit over at our table.

At least all her nervousness was gone and she chatted vivaciously.
Kennedy said little. He was too busy watching her. It was quite
the opposite of the case of Mrs. Garrett. Yet I was at a loss to
define what it was that I sensed.

Still the minutes sped past and we seemed to be getting on
famously. Unlike his action in the case of the older woman where
he had been sounding the depths of her heart and mind, in this
case his idea seemed to be to allow the childish prattle to come
out and perhaps explain itself.