After awhile the woman went out of the room. Without, suspiciously close to the door, was the man. They exchanged a few hurried sentences. She asked: "Is the brougham outside?"
"It's been there ever since I brought him down."
"I'm going to put on my hat. Give me his; I'll put it on for him. He's in a state in which he's more in my line than in yours."
The man grinned. He rubbed his chin as if considering.
"How long shall you be?"
"I ought to be back inside an hour. I shall come straight back."
She began to ascend the stairs, the man watching her as she went.
"I'll take care that you come straight back. You may have a card up your sleeve which you mean to play; but I have another, which will perhaps surprise you."
These words were not spoken aloud; they were said to himself. He looked as if he meant them, and as if they had a significance--an ominous significance--which was a little secret of his own.