Apparently the stranger did like. She closed the door behind her, standing, for a moment, to regard Miss Emmett. Then her look wandered about the room. She wore a big hat, to which was attached a veil which was so thick as almost to entirely obscure her features. But one realised, from something in her attitude, that what she saw filled her with amazement.
"I think that I may have made a mistake."
"I shouldn't be surprised but what you had."
"Is it a Miss Lizzie Emmett who lives here?"
"Yes--Liz Emmett--that's me."
"You!" The astonishment in the speaker's voice was unequivocal, and not complimentary. One understood that she was studying Lizzie from behind her veil as if she could scarcely believe her eyes. Her speech faltered. "Excuse me, but are you in the profession?"
A hint of defiance came into Lizzie's tone. She was beginning to suspect that her visitor might be something in the district-visiting line.
"I'm in the ballet at the Cerulean Theatre--that's what I am!"
The stranger seemed to shiver as she heard; as if the answer removed from her mind the last traces of doubt, leaving her, instead, with a feeling of uncomfortable certainty. Turning towards the tiny fireplace, she began to trifle with the odds and ends which were on the mantelshelf. Then, once more confronting Lizzie, with a deliberate movement she raised her veil.
"Do you know me?"