“What an artist!” he said.
She turned on him with a frown.
“I say, what a nasty journey!” corrected Bobbie.
She nodded slowly, thoughtfully.
“Do you know, I’m beginning to feel quite different toward Gordon,” she said.
The sweeper sat up on his heels expectantly. For a second she became conscious of his presence.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” she asked coldly.
“Nothing—nothing.” The despairing man stooped to his task.
“Where is your—your accomplice?” she asked.
Gordon turned his head.