Grace was on the point of refusing, when a sudden idea came to her. She hastily opened her pocketbook, tore out the pieces of the visiting card that Duvall had left upon the table, and fitted them together.
"Drive me to 162 W. 57th Street," she directed, and stepped into the cab.
Leary touched his cap, and in a few moments they were speeding up the Avenue.
"Don't go right up to the address," Grace told him through the speaking tube. "Stop a little below, but in a place where I can see the door."
The man nodded, and a little later they turned into 57th Street and drew up alongside the curb.
"Do you think you would recognize the woman who gave you the card, last night?" Grace asked.
"Yes, ma'am. I think I should, ma'am."
"Very well. Watch the doorway of number 162. If she goes in let me know. If she comes out, follow her. I shall probably recognize her myself, if she is the woman I think. I saw her for a few moments at the Grand Theater last night. But she may not be the same one. We'll know that later."
Leary nodded, and they began a long wait. After what seemed to Grace an interminable time, they saw a taxicab come rapidly down the street, execute a turn, and draw up before the door of number 162.
Grace, as soon as she realized the cab's destination, sprang to the sidewalk and strolled carelessly along in the direction of the house. The cab came to a standstill just before she reached it, and two women got out. One of them Grace had never seen before. The other she recognized at once. It was the woman who had fainted in the theater the previous night.