“Ah,” she said, “but then—there are so many people in New York!”
Again there was a pause, while he took thought. Sylvia remarked, helpfully, “In the South, you see, everybody knows everybody else.”
“I am not at all sure,” said he, stiffly, “that I should find that a desirable state of affairs.”
“Neither should I,” said she—“in New York.”
Now perhaps you think that this kind of thing is no particular strain upon the nerves of a young girl; but Sylvia was seeking a way of escape. Where was the villain Harley, and how much longer did he mean to keep her on the rack? At this moment she saw a taxicab coming down the street, and she recognized her chance.
“Please call it!” she exclaimed.
Instinctively her companion raised his hand. Equally instinctive was his exclamation: “Are you going?”
Her answer was her action; as the vehicle drew up by the curb, she opened the door herself, and stepped in. “To Boston,” she said; and the cab moved on. “Good-bye, Mr. van Tuiver,” she called to her surprised companion. “Good-bye, until the next incarnation!”
§ 10
News spread rapidly in Cambridge, Sylvia found. The next afternoon she received a call from Mr. “Tubby” Bates, and one glimpse of his features told her that he was moved by some compelling impulse.