“What for?”
“To look at it. It is empty. One of those furnished houses to rent. I like to look at them.”
Mr. Cary followed her up the stoop. The door was opened by a caretaker who had seen them ascend the steps. Mrs. Clymer, if that was her name, was contented with looking at the parlors.
She went out, and, walking up to Fourth Avenue, turned to the south, Mr. Cary obediently following her.
At Twenty-third Street she turned the corner, going to a real estate office, where she entered into conversation with the broker. Mr. Cary, meantime, looked out of the window into the street.
If he had known them, he would have recognized in the two men standing on the pavement near the door, Chick and Patsy.
But the Brown Robin called him to her, saying:
“I must have twenty-five dollars. I want to pay it to this man.”
“I haven’t that amount with me,” replied Mr. Cary.
“Give me your check, then.”