"Isn't that funny?" Mary laughed. "Isn't it perfectly ridiculous?"
"It's a scream!" said Johnson Boller. "About the time we both get pinched it may be up to you to——"
"Tell the truth?" Mary said quickly.
"Just that!"
"I'll never do it!" the girl cried passionately. "No! Not even to save both of you! I'm not here through any fault of my own, and—and—why, a man who could suggest such a thing——"
"He's not suggesting it; he's just excited," Anthony said miserably, "Now, suppose we try, just once more, to sit down sanely and devise the way of getting you safely home, Miss Mary?"
"And soon!" said the girl, somewhat feverishly. "If I could have gotten home while it was dark Felice could have smuggled me in and—and lied about it, if necessary. But it isn't night any longer; it's nine o'clock or past nine, and——"
She said no more. Lips parted, and eyes, all in an instant, thoroughly horrified, she stood and listened; and from the door of Anthony's apartment a thumping sounded once more and a voice said:
"Hurry up! Open that door!"
"Robert again!" Mary gasped.