“What do you want?” she inquired, a little crisply.
“Mr McIlvaine’s apartment.”
“That’s it, opposite,” she returned, more affable as she caught sight of the good-looking man. “Mr Gleason’s in there now.”
“Yes, he’s the man I want. Thank you, madame.”
She still stood, watching, as he rang the doorbell of the designated apartment.
There was no answer, nor any sound from inside. The doctor looked apprehensively at the door.
“Your key wouldn’t let me in, I suppose,” he said, turning back to the now frankly curious spectator.
“Oh, Lord, no! We don’t have interchangeable keys! He’s out, I expect. He’s mostly out.”
“But I want to get into his place——”
“You do! And he not there! You a friend of his?”