That night she went to the lecture. She went alone, for Gordon Lockwood did not reappear and no one else knew of her going.
“Shall I have a key, or will you be up?” she asked of Mrs. Adams, as she left the house.
“Oh, we’ll be up.” The round, shrewd eyes looked at her kindly. “You’re lucky to get a ticket. Doctor Waring’s lectures are crowded.”
“Good night,” said Miss Austin, and went away.
The lecture room was partly filled when she arrived, and her ticket entitled her to a seat near the front.
Being seated, she fell into a brown study, or, at least, sat motionless and apparently in deep thought.
Gordon Lockwood, already there, saw her come in, and after she was in her place, he quietly arose and went across the room, taking a seat directly behind her.
Of this she was quite unaware, and the student of human nature gave himself up to a scrutiny of the stranger.
He saw a little head, its mass of dark, almost black hair surmounted by a small turban shaped hat, of taupe colored velvet, with a curly ostrich tip nestling over one ear.
Not that her ears were visible, for Miss Austin was smartly groomed and her whole effect modish.