He ran downstairs, out of the house, and down the street to the avenue, where he hailed a car and jumped on board.
Ten minutes’ ride brought him to the corner of the street on which Adler lived.
He jumped off the car and ran up the sidewalk until he reached his friend’s home.
It was still so early that the family had just risen.
The wife was getting breakfast ready.
“You are our morning star, Mr. William. You always shine before sunrise,” said Mrs. Adler, laughing at her own fancy, as she wiped her fingers and shook hands with him; but the next instant she saw his woebegone face, and hastened to exclaim:
“Something has happened to you, Mr. William! What is it? Can Adler or I do anything for you?”
“You are right, my friend. I have had very bad news. My mother is ill, perhaps dying. I am called to her bedside,” Harcourt replied.
“Oh, I am so sorry,” said the sympathetic woman.
“Adler, can I speak to you a moment?” he inquired of the man.