She shook her head. At any moment they might miss her up-stairs. She had no idea what might or might not happen.
A block down the street, she discovered that not wearing a hat rendered her conspicuous. A small closed car passed her. Clancy did not yet know that two-passenger cars are never taxis. She hailed the driver. He drew in to the curb.
"Please take me to the Napoli," she begged. "Near Times Square."
The driver stared at her. Then he touched his hat.
"Certainly," he said courteously.
Then Clancy drew back.
"Oh, I thought you were a taxi-man!"
"Well, I can at least take you home," smiled the driver.
She looked at him. They were near an arc-light, and he looked honest, clean. He was big, too.