At this moment the policeman who had opened the office door to me came up bringing a letter, which he handed to the inspector.
"It is for you, miss," that functionary said, reading the address, "but I have orders to open all correspondence. You will excuse my complying with them."
My heart stood still. Could it be from Kosinski or Giannoli? After a moment the inspector handed the note to me. It was from the landlord—a notice to quit. I walked up and showed it to Short.
"Well, what will you do?" he inquired. They were the first words we had exchanged that morning.
"I shall leave," I replied.
"And how about the paper? Do you think of starting it again?"
"No, I do not think so; not for the present at any rate."
"And the 'plant'?"
"I shall leave that too. You can look after it, you and the comrades!"
"Oh, the comrades!" sneered Short, and returned to his pipe.