“There isn't.”
“Let me see,” said Maria. She searched the names. “Well, I don't care,” said she. “It was on the third floor, and I am going up and ask, anyway.”
“Now, Maria, do you think—” began Wollaston.
But Maria began climbing the stairs. There was no elevator.
“My!” said Gladys, but she followed Maria.
Wollaston pushed by them both. “See here, you don't know what you are getting into,” said he, sternly. “You let me go first.”
When they reached the third floor, Maria pointed to a door. “That is the door,” she whispered, breathlessly.
Wollaston knocked. Immediately the door was flung open by a very pretty young woman in a rose-colored evening gown. Her white shoulders gleamed through the transparent chiffon, and a comb set with rhinestones sparkled in the fluff of her blond hair. When she saw the three she gave a shrill scream, and immediately a very small man, much smaller than she, but with a fierce cock of a black pointed beard, and a tremendous wiriness of gesture, appeared.
“Oh, Tom!” gasped the young woman. “Oh!”
“What on earth is the matter, Stella?” asked the man. Then he looked fiercely at the three. “Who are these people?” he asked.