"Who wouldn't, when you were talking that way about opportunity and insisting that I stay here and all that sort of thing?" the young woman inquired tartly. "It was plain enough that you were a crank, at the best of it, and I didn't know—well, it seemed better to take a chance of getting out during the night."
Second by second, normal cerebration was returning to Anthony, and although it caused him to grow colder and colder with plain apprehension it also rendered his perspective more true, for he burst out with——
"Why in Heaven's name did you, a girl, ever come here in the first place?"
"What?" The girl smiled flittingly and ruefully. "Oh, there was a reason for that, too."
"What was it?"
She of the Titian hair eyed him thoughtfully and shook her head.
"Perhaps I'll tell you some other time," she said.
"Why not now?" Anthony snapped.
"You wouldn't be any happier for knowing, just now," the girl said mysteriously.
Her pajamaed legs, swathed in the mighty bathrobe, crossed comfortably Turkish fashion, and she considered Anthony with her calm, quizzical eyes—and of a sudden an overwhelming helplessness surged through Anthony Fry and he had more than a little difficulty in concealing the slight tremble of his limbs.