He could not believe it, either, but he fled after her, suit-case and golf-bag swinging; the gates slammed, they descended the stairs and emerged on Twenty-eighth Street. "I live on Twenty-ninth Street," she said; "shall we say good-bye here?"
"I should think not!" he replied with a scornful decision that amazed her, but, curiously enough, did not offend her. They walked up Twenty-eighth Street to Fifth Avenue, crossed, turned north under the white flare of electricity, then entered Twenty-ninth Street slowly, side by side, saying nothing.
CHAPTER XIX
THE TIME AND THE PLACE
She halted at the portal of an old-fashioned house which had been turned into an apartment hotel—a great brownstone mansion set back from the street. A severely respectable porter in livery appeared and bowed to her, but when his apoplectic eyes encountered Seabury's his shaven jaw dropped and a curious spasm appeared to affect his knees.