It was about eleven o’clock that night, and Nan was fast asleep when Mrs. Emmett knocked loudly on the door.
“There’s a telephone call, Miss Whitlock! The man said it was very important.”
Nan crawled out of bed and wrapped herself in one of Madge’s dressing robes, wondering what man could have any important conversation with her at eleven o’clock.
She pattered down the stairs to the telephone, while Mrs. Emmett stood within earshot.
“This is Miss Whitlock,” said Nan sleepily.
“Emergency Hospital, Miss Whitlock,” said a heavy, masculine voice. “You are Madge Allan’s room-mate?”
“Yes,” said Nan weakly.
“Do you know where Miss Allan’s relatives live?”
“Why—no,” faltered Nan. “What is the matter?”
“I’m very sorry,” said the man slowly. “Miss Allan was killed an hour ago in an accident. A Mr. Pollock was badly injured, but was able to give us your name. He said⸺”