"Oh, I don't know what to say, or what to do," came from the lips
of the hunted one. "I have no friends, no one to turn to, no one to
help me. You--you can't be so heartless as to lead me on and then
give me up to--God help me, I--I should not be made to suffer for
what I have done. If you only knew the circumstances. If you only
knew--"

"Stop!" cried the other, in agony.

The girl was bewildered. "You are so strange. I don't understand--"

"We have but two or three miles to go," interrupted Mrs. Wrandall.
"We must think hard and--rapidly. Are you willing to come with me
to my hotel? You will be safe there for the present. To-morrow we
can plan something for the future."

"If I can only find a place to rest for a little while," began the
other.

"I shall be busy all day, you will not be disturbed. But leave the
rest to me. I shall find a way."

It was nearly three o'clock when she brought the car to a stop in
front of a small, exclusive hotel not far from Central Park. The
street was dark and the vestibule was but dimly lighted. No attendant
was in sight.

"Slip into this," commanded Mrs. Wrandall, beginning to divest
herself of her own fur coat. "It will cover your muddy garments. I
am quite warmly dressed. Don't worry. Be quick. For the time being