“I—I—must see Mr. Steele.”
“Mr. Steele is asleep. He does not receive visitors at this hour.”
“I must see him.” Her cheeks were flaming under the man’s scrutiny. “Here,” she opened her purse and gave him a bill, then pushed him aside and ran upstairs. She remembered that Steele had told her that his rooms were on the second floor, front. The halls were as dark as midnight. She had to feel with her hands for a door. There was one at the end facing the hall. She knocked so loudly that Steele sprang out of bed.
“What is it?” he cried.
“It is I. Open the door—quick!”
Steele made no reply until he opened a door at the side of the hall. He had tied himself into a bath robe.
“Good heavens!” he said, “why have you come here? Are you mad?”
“Oh, I think I am. Lock the door—quick. Oh, haven’t you heard? Didn’t you know about it before? The ‘Day’ is right next door to the ‘Eye.’ Why didn’t you warn me?”
“What on earth are you talking about? What has happened? Do sit down and calm yourself.”
“The ‘Eye’ is out with a big story that I murdered Beverly Peele. That is what is the matter.”