"All right!" said Graham. "I shall wait here."
He kept up the air of boredom until he imagined that the small, black-haired, olive-tinted man had had time to get well away. Then he sprang to the door, saw that the passage was empty, darted back into the room and over to the window.
"Come on!" he said. "Quick's the word!" and climbed out, giving the girl his hand. For a moment they stood together on the ledge of the fire-escape, the stairs of which seemed to run endlessly down. With a chuckle of triumph Graham shut the window, as the girl gave a little cry of dismay.
She had called that place hell, but from the height on which they stood it seemed as though they were climbing down from the sky.
IV
"Uptown," said Graham to the taxi driver. "I'll tell you where when I know myself."
A knowing and sympathetic grin covered the big Irish face and a raucous yell came from the hard-used engine, and the taxi went forward with a huge jerk.
The little girl turned her large eyes on Graham. "You do not know vhere you take me?" she asked.
"No, by thunder, I don't. I can't drive you like this to a hotel, you've got no baggage. Most of my friends live in bachelor apartments, and the women I know,—well, I would like to see their faces if I turned up with you—and this story."