The cage filled at the first floor. It began to empty at the third. By the time they had reached the eleventh, only two passengers, beside Florence, remained in the back of the car. Only employees went beyond the eleventh; the floors above were stock rooms.
The girl at the lever threw back a fleeting glance. Florence thought she was about to speak, but she did not.
The car went to the thirteenth landing. There two people got off and three got on. Florence remained. The car dropped from floor to floor until they were again in the basement. Once more the mysterious double gave Florence a fleeting glance. She did not speak. Florence did not move from her place in the corner. The car rose again. To Florence the situation was growing tense, unbearable.
Again the car emptied. At the eleventh floor Florence found herself in the car alone with her double. This gave her a strange, frightened feeling, but she resolutely held her place.
“Say!” exclaimed the girl, turning about as the car moved slowly upward. “Let me run your car, will you? Take my place, won’t you? You won’t have a thing to do. It—it’ll be a lark.” As she said all this in a whisper there was a tense eagerness on her face that Florence could not miss.
“But—but your car?” she managed to whisper back.
“Haven’t any. Don’t go on until to-morrow. Here’s my locker key. Get—get my coat and furs and hat out and wear them. Stay in the store—Book Section and Rest Room. All you have to do.
“Only,” she added as an afterthought, “if someone speaks to you, tells you something, you say, ‘Oh! All right.’ Just like that. And if they ask you what you said, you repeat. That’s all you’ll have to do.”
“Oh, but I can’t—”
“It isn’t anything bad,” the other girl put in hastily. There was a sort of desperate eagerness about the tense lines of her face. They were nearing the thirteenth floor. “Not a thing that’s bad—nor—nor anything you wouldn’t gladly do yourself. I—I’ll explain some time. On—only do it, will you?”