"That woman who just went out," she began, coolly, "she's the same one who—"
"Yes," he interrupted, crisply.
"Who is she?"
He looked at her steadily; she did not flinch. "A friend of mine."
Her lip curled disdainfully. "Oh!" she said, and she sat down.
* * * * *
Toward evening they came for him, or rather Watson did, with a taxicab.
"Everything has gone nicely," Watson explained, pridefully. "You certainly were lucky in having Hilmer for a friend … no humiliation, no publicity."
Fred, standing before the bureau mirror, brushed his hair. "Where are you taking me now?" he inquired.
"To the detention hospital… You'll stay there a week or so for observation… It's a mere form."