Mr. Hallowell, protesting feebly and leaning heavily upon the two men, stumbled into the bedroom, and the door was shut behind him.
For a moment the girl and the man stood in silence, and then, as though suddenly conscious of her presence, Winthrop turned and smiled.
The girl did not answer his smile. From under the shadow of the picture hat and the ostrich feathers her eyes regarded him searchingly, watchfully.
For the first time, Winthrop had the chance to observe her. He saw that she was very young, that her clothes cruelly disguised her, that she was only a child masquerading as a brigand, that her face was distractingly lovely. Having noted this, the fact that she had driven several grown men to abuse and vituperation struck him as being extremely humorous; nor did he try to conceal his amusement. But the watchfulness in the eyes of the girl did not relax.
“I’m afraid I interfered with your seance,” said the District Attorney.
The girl regarded him warily, like a fencer fixing her eyes on those of her opponent. There was a pause which lasted so long that had the silence continued it would have been rude. “Well,” the girl returned at last, timidly, “that’s what the city expects you to do, is it not?”
Winthrop laughed. “How did you know who I was?” he asked, and then added quickly, “Of course, you’re a mind reader.”
For the first time the girl smiled. Winthrop found it a charming smile, wistful and confiding.
“I don’t have to ask the spirit world,” she said, “to tell me who is District Attorney of New York.”
“Yes,” said the District Attorney; “yes, I suppose you have to be pretty well acquainted with some of the laws—those about mediums?”