“I’m not afraid, you know,” said Dorothy simply and smiled up at him.
“I know you’re not. But it would really be better if you were. For then you’d be much more careful, and you must watch your step every minute until I get you out of it. Here’s your coat. Slip into it and we’ll get going. The sooner I get you safely into Janet’s room, and that young lady out of it, the easier will your Uncle Sanborn feel.”
Chapter VI
WHO’S WHO?
The December evening was cold and wet as Dorothy and Ashton Sanborn crossed the sidewalk and entered their taxi-cab. The day had been a dreary one, and now a dense, drizzling fog lay low upon the great city. Dun-colored clouds drooped over a muddy Park Avenue as they were swept up town. On the side streets the electrics were but misty splotches of diffused light which threw feeble circular glimmers upon the slimy pavements. The yellow glare from shopwindows streamed out into the chill, vaporous air, and threw a murky, shifting radiance across the crowded thoroughfare. To Dorothy there was something eerie and ghostlike in the endless procession of faces which flitted across these narrow bars of light. She was not in any respect a timid girl, but the dull, heavy evening, and the prospect of the strange venture in which they were engaged, combined to make her feel nervous and depressed.
At 59th street the taxi turned west and rolled steadily along the shining black asphalt, stopping now and then for the red lights. They crossed 5th Avenue and swung into Central Park. Dorothy caught glimpses of the gaunt shapes of trees in silhouette against the cold fog. She closed her eyes and resolutely turned her thoughts to the events of the afternoon.
So engrossed had she become in the contemplation of her delightful buying orgy that she was surprised when their cab pulled up with a jerk and Ashton Sanborn opened the door.
“Muffle up in your fur collar, Dorothy,” he said. “The fewer people who see your face, the better.”
Now that the ordeal had arrived, Dorothy’s nervousness vanished. She buried the lower part of her face in the soft fur collar and walked at Mr. Sanborn’s side into the lobby of the apartment house.
A darkey in brass buttoned uniform stood by the elevator. Two shining rows of white teeth flashed in a smile of greeting for the detective.
“All the way up, George.” Mr. Sanborn gave the order as the car started upward.