"It's a way she has at times," he explained to Sarah Higgins. "She is not always so bad. She will be quite herself in a few days, and then she will remember nothing of this."
"Poor dear!" was the answer. "It's dreadful to be so out of one's mind."
"You must take care that she does not escape."
"I will, sir. But about that money?" And the woman's eyes gleamed greedily.
"There is ten dollars on account." And Homer Bulson handed over the amount.
"Thank you, sir. She shall have the best of care—and she won't get away, never fear."
"I was going to remain over in Lakewood to-night, but I find I must return to New York," went on Bulson. "I'll be back again some time to-morrow or the day after. In the meantime do not let her get out of the room."
"I will do as you say, sir," answered Sarah Higgins, and then Gertrude's cousin took his departure.
It did not take the girl long to come out of her swoon, and she at once ran to the door. Finding it locked she went to the window, determined to leap to the ground, if she could do nothing better. But, alas! Homer Bulson had made his calculations only too well. The window was slatted over on the outside, making the apartment virtually a prison cell.