“The girl’s mad!” he said sullenly. “No one wanted to do her any harm.”
Hardaway and his men came trooping up the stairs. Quest relinquished his prisoner and went over to Lenora.
“I’ve been so frightened,” she sobbed. “They got me in here—they told me that this was the street in which my aunt lived—and they wouldn’t let me go. The woman was horrible. And this afternoon this man came. The brute!”
“He hasn’t hurt you?” Quest demanded fiercely, as he passed his arm around her.
She shook her head.
“He would never have done that,” she murmured. “I had my hatpin in my gown and I should have killed myself first.”
Quest turned to Hardaway.
“I’ll take the young lady away,” he said. “You know where to find us.”
Hardaway nodded and Quest supported Lenora down the stairs and into the taxi-cab, which was still waiting. She leaned back and he passed his arm around her.
“Are you faint?” he asked anxiously, as they drove towards the hotel.