When the dinner was over Mr. Cary renewed his efforts to get the photographic plate, but the Brown Robin was not to be cajoled into a bargain.
She evaded in every way coming to close quarters, laughing and joking.
Finally she put an end to it all by saying that she must go out, and that Papa Cary could accompany her a part of the way.
She went to the upper part of the house, and while she was gone Mr. Cary seemed to show a most inexcusable curiosity as to the room he was left in and what it contained, for he examined everything in it, picking up a few things which he put in his pocket.
When the Brown Robin returned she was dressed for the street.
“Am I pretty enough to walk with you?” she asked.
“I don’t know in which costume you are the prettiest,” replied Mr. Cary, “but there is a strange thing,” he continued. “I do not yet know your name.”
“You shall call me Mrs. Clymer,” she said, as she led him out of the door.
She walked with him up Lexington Avenue as far as Thirtieth Street, into which street she turned, going toward Fourth Avenue. She stopped before a certain house and looked at its front carefully.
“Let us go in here,” she said.