"Yes, I have. Let's go. Come on, Will, let's get out," he said. There was a note of impatience in his voice. We wormed our way back to the entrance of a shop.
"What's the rush?" said Will.
Robert replied. I could see his emotion now. "It's this. I'll tell you. I'm going to clear right out of this crowd and look that girl up. You've got that address in Madison Avenue, Lucy. I'm going to look her up——"
"But, Bob," I remonstrated. "She doesn't live there, and she doesn't want to be looked up. She has asked me not to—and besides——"
"I can't help that—I shall be doing the looking up. I'll take the blame," he rather snapped at me.
"Now, look here, Bob, old man," said Will, and he put a hand on one of Robert's shoulders. "What's the good in it now? Don't you see she'll be hotter than ever on this thing just now? Wait till she cools off a bit. That's the idea!"
"Oh, it isn't to dissuade her. I don't care about that. It's simply to find out if she's all right. She may need help of some kind or other. She's a proud girl. Good heavens, she isn't going to send for any one. I don't know what we've been thinking of—a whole year down in this place, and no knowledge of what kind of a life she's had to live. That isn't right—no. Lucy, if you'll be kind enough to give me that address, I'll be off."
"I don't believe you can trace her through that."
"I'll see to that end of it." He was really almost sharp with me.
"What do you think, Will?" I inquired.