"Yes," said the legless man briefly, but without going into any explanation of his ailment. "You came to tell me that I mustn't go away till the bust is finished. Is that it?"
Barbara felt more at her ease. "Yes," she said, "I am selfish about it. It means so much to me."
"Well, you needn't have come," said Blizzard, and it was almost as if he was angry with her for having done so. "I've changed my plans. I've had to change them. I stay."
Barbara was immensely pleased. "I wish I could tell you how glad I am," she said.
"The thing now," said Blizzard, "is to get you back to your house. You shouldn't have come to this part of the city at all; and especially not dressed like that. But you didn't stop to think. You had an idea in your head. And you came. Did anybody know where you were going when you left home?"
She shook her head.
"Something dreadful might have happened to you," he said, and a curious smile played about his mouth for a moment, "and no one the wiser. Suppose you hadn't found me here to look after you? Suppose you'd found some drunken crook just out of Sing Sing, or something worse?"
"But I did find you," said Barbara, "and all is well."
"Yes--yes," he said, "all is well. And you may thank your stars for that. Why didn't you tell your taxi to wait?"
"But I did."