"Suits me perfectly. Let's settle it now. I don't want to come back to-morrow night, just for the trip," she said coolly.
The poor little man was on the prongs of a toasting fork, and he knew it. He paced the floor and sputtered and raged. Bob looked at her watch.
"I don't intend to miss my train. Do I come back or not?"
"Oh, damn it, yes. Now get out."
"You're a most obliging little man, Wolfson, but your temper is unspeakably bad."
She smiled sweetly at him, and tripped out.
All the way on the train she devised new ways of appearing to Trent. He had no least suspicion of her plans, and she intended to make the most of the dramatic possibilities of the situation. Her train did not get her into New York until after six. She knew Paul was to address half a dozen meetings, ending with the biggest of all at Cooper Union. She was not sure that she could find him even if she tried, but she intended to be at Cooper Union to lose herself in the crowd, and listen to him, watch him fire the last gun of his fight—their fight. Then—well, that would have to take care of itself.
She drove to the hotel and met the cordial, unsurprised greeting of the clerk. Nothing "in heaven or earth beneath" can surprise a New York hotel clerk. She asked about Paul, when he came in, when he dined.
"Lord, Mrs. Trent, I don't know when the man eats or sleeps. I don't think he does much of either."
"How can I find out where he is to speak to-night? He does not know I'm here and I want to surprise him."