As the train drew out of One Hundred and Twenty-fifth Street station the blond man returned to No. 2, where he found his companion completely dressed and waiting. She was heavily veiled.
"Where's the keys?"
"Your keys? Oh, there they are, on the berth."
"What was it you wanted?"
"Wanted?" The woman raised the veil above her lips. "I haven't wanted anything."
"But you came and got my keys!"
"I ... what? I don't know what you are talking about. I went directly to the dressing-room and came straight back."
"Berta, what nonsense is this? You came for the keys and I gave them to you. Wittel and Franz saw you."
"Karl, you certainly did not!" alarmed.
The man stared at her for a space. Then swiftly he knelt before his kit-bag, opened it and rammed his hand to the bottom, plowing about.