She hung up the receiver. She shrugged her shoulders, and, telling the telephone clerk that she was going out to luncheon, left the office.
[XVI]
Zenda Films, Incorporated, occupied the tenth, eleventh, and twelfth floors of the newly named—though Clancy didn't know it—Zenda Building. In the lobby was a list of the building's tenants, and it stated that the executive offices of Zenda Films were on the tenth floor.
An office-boy heard her name, asked if she had an appointment, and reluctantly, upon her stating that she had, turned toward an inner room, casting over his shoulder the statement that he didn't think Mr. Zenda was in.
But from the room toward which he was making his sullen way—that sullen way peculiar to office-boys—emerged a tall young man, garbed in the height of Broadway fashion. He advanced beamingly to Clancy.
"Miss Deane? Please come right in."
Clancy followed him through the door, across an inner room, and into a further chamber beyond. And the instant she was inside that second room, Clancy knew that she had been a gullible fool, for instead of Zenda, she beheld Grannis.
But what was somehow more terrifying still, she saw beside Grannis, his thick features not good-humored to-day, the face of Weber. She didn't scream—Clancy was not the sort who would use valued and needed energy in vocalities—she turned. But the tall youth had deftly locked the door behind her. He faced her with a triumphant grin, then stepped quickly to one side; the key which he had been holding in his hand he transferred to the hand of Grannis, who put it, with an air of grim finality, into his trousers pocket.