"It was very kind of you both," said Clara grateful, yet fearful that the point of most importance had been lost.
"Was his name Billings?"
"No'm, 'twas Patterson. Him an' me was together for some time after the fight, an' I walked along home with him."
"You know where he lives then?"
"Not exactly, miss, but I could go pretty near to it. You see, we was goin' along Washington Street toward Roxbury, and had come a long way from Dover, when he turns down a side street, an' then another, an' I kep' along for I hadn't anything better to do. He'd been silent for a while, an' suddenly he stops an' says, tryin' hard to brace up. 'You mustn't come any further,' says he. 'Why not?' says I, half minded to give him another lickin', only he was too full. ''Cause me boss says he will——' but never mind what he said his boss would do. I said I didn't care, an' turned back. He went on, an' then I was minded to see where he went. Of course it was dark, an' I couldn't be certain, but I think I could go straight to that building."
"Will you take me there?" asked Clara.
"Now, miss?"
Clara reflected. Other objections aside, it might be the worst possible policy to move prematurely in the matter. It might be a false clew, she knew nothing about the building, and meantime Paul was following Poubalov. Much as she longed for immediate action, it seemed wiser to postpone it until an investigation could be made.
"Would your employer spare you to help me to-morrow forenoon?" she asked.
"I think he would, miss. He told me to do what you said, says he——"