"Dis room is in de hallway adjoining my apartment——"
"You brought me here——?"
"Las' night," she said, with a smile, "an' a beautiful time we had getting you up de stair——"
"I—I remember—a man with a lantern—and then a struggle—with you helping—through a passage—to the river—a boat——"
"A voiture an' den—here," she added as he paused.
He put out his hand and fingered the lace of her sleeve.
"Why—why did you do this for me, Piquette?"
She caught his hand, pressed it in hers, and then rose abruptly.
"What does it matter? You s'all talk no more until after de doctor 'as seen you. Sh——"
Later in the day after Jim Horton had slept again, Piquette visited him, dressed for the street. In a few words she told him how she had guessed at the double identity—then confirmed it, and then how she had discovered the means Harry Horton had employed to get his brother out of the way. She dwelt lightly on his rescue from the house in the Rue Charron and explained quite frankly her own relations with the criminals.