“Any news of John Storm?” said Drake.
“Not that I know of.”
“I wonder if you would like him to come out again—now?”
“I wonder!”
At that moment there was a step behind them, and a soft voice said, “I want you to introduce me, Mr. Drake.”
It was a lady of eight or nine and twenty, wearing short hair brushed upward and backward in the manner of a man.
“Ah, Rosa—Miss Rosa Macquarrie,” said Drake. “Rosa is a journalist, and a great friend of mine, Glory. If you want fame, she keeps some of the keys of it, and if you want friendship—— But I'll leave you together.”
“My dear,” said the lady, “I want you to let me know you.”
“But I've seen you before—and spoken to you,” said Glory.
“Why, where?”