The chauffeur obeyed, but he stopped again directly behind Karlov's taxicab. He slid off his seat and opened the door. His face was grim.
Tumpitum-tump! Tumpitum-tump! She did not hear the tocsin this time; she felt it on her spine—the drums of fear. If they touched her!
“Come with me, miss. If you are sensible you will not be harmed. If you cut up a racket I'll have to carry you.”
“What does this mean?” faltered Kitty.
“That we have finally got you, miss. You can see for yourself that there isn't any help in sight. Better take it sensibly. We don't intend to hurt you. It's somebody else we want. There's a heavy score against you, but we'll overlook it if you act sensibly. You were very clever last night; but the game depends upon the last trick.”
“I'll go sensibly,” Kitty agreed. They must not touch her!
Karlov did not speak as he opened the door of the house for her. His expression was Buddha-like.
“This way, miss,” said the chauffeur, affably.
“You are an American?”
“Whenever it pays.”