She had reached the corner. Just beyond was the subway. It would land her within two squares of the man's greasy office. Now, though, suddenly, she felt a gnawing. A sandwich would taste good. Two sandwiches would taste better. Then, quite as suddenly, that vision, the street with it, everything, except one thing only, vanished.
Blocking the way stood Lennox.
"Where to in such a hurry?"
Easily she smiled and told him. "I'm going to buy a rhinoceros." But for all the easiness of it her tongue nearly tripped. "And what are you doing?"
"I? Oh! Cleaning up."
Wall Street is not a Japanese tea-garden. It lacks the klop-klop of fountains. Yet, even in its metallic roar there may—for exceptional beings—be peace there. Not for Cassy, though. She could have screamed.
A moment only. Lennox turned and both moved on.
"Let's get out of this."
Cassy looked up at him. "You forget my little errand."
"Ah, yes! The rhinoceros. Couldn't you ask me to meet him?"