The lady in black frightened her. “What can she mean, always dogging my footsteps?” she asked herself as she sought the street.
“And that dark-faced one? I saw him again to-night by the door. Who is he? What can he want?”
There was a little group of people gathered by the door. As she passed out, she fancied she caught a glimpse of that dark, forbidding face, those evil eyes.
With a shudder she sped away. She was not pursued.
At her apartment she quickly changed into her own plain house dress. Having lighted the living-room fire, she waited a little for the return of Florence, who should have been home long before.
“What can be keeping her?”
With nervous, uncertain steps, she crossed to her own chamber door. Having entered, she went to the window. Her room was dark. The street below was half dark. A distant lamp cast a dim, swaying light. At first no one was to be seen. Then a single dark figure moved stealthily up the street. The swaying light caused this person to take on the appearance of an acrobat who leaped into the air, then came down like a rubber ball. Even when he paused to look up at the building before him, he seemed to sway like a drunken sailor.
“That may be the man.” Her pulse quickened.
A moment more and a car, careering down the street, lighted the man’s face. It did more. It brought into the open for a second another figure, deeper in the shadows.
“What a strange pair!” she murmured as she shrank back.