"Twelve!"
"Good God!"
As Buck goes on his errand, Lawrence, looking carefully about to see he is not observed, slips from his car into that of Miss Travenion, which is quiet, save for a loud snoring from the gentlemen's smoking compartment, which indicates that the Ethiopian porter is making a very comfortable night of it.
A lamp, partially turned up, illuminates faintly the rear of the car. He taps lightly on Miss Travenion's door. No answer! His heart sinks; she may be already carried away from him.
Then he raps more loudly, and her voice tells him she is as yet safe.
"Who is it?" asks the girl.
"I—Harry Lawrence!"
"Is anything the matter?"
"Yes! I must see you in two minutes!"
"Impossible—I am not dressed."