He shuffled forward into view, a small man with a dead white face and a head of monstrous size.
She was bereft of speech and could only look at him, for this was the man she had found in her rooms the night before her dismissal—the man who carried the Green Rust.
Evidently he did not recognize her.
"Mister Peale, he tolt me, I must gall him mit der telephone, but der nomber she vas gone oudt of mine head!"
He blinked at her with his short-sighted eyes and laid a big hairy hand on the gate.
"You must—you mustn't come in," she said breathlessly. "I will call Mr. Beale—sit—sit down again."
"Sch," he said obediently, and shuffled back to his chair, "dell him der Herr Brofessor it was."
The girl took up the telephone receiver with a shaking hand and gave the number. It was Beale's voice that answered her.
"There's a man here," she said hurriedly, "a—a—the man—who was in my room—the Herr Professor."
She heard his exclamation of annoyance.