"I do understand," Sally interrupted. "I will take care of myself." She may not have realized how this would sound and how it would exasperate Everett. But perhaps she did realize.
Everett only shrugged his shoulders and turned away. Sally was an obstinate piece.
"If you want to do me a kindness," she continued, "you will help to get Charlie out as soon as you can."
"As you like," he returned. "I will certainly do what I can to get Charlie out. That's what I am here for." Again Sally smiled her peculiar little smile. She couldn't help it. That Everett should think she would believe that! "But you had much better let me take you to your hotel first," he added, persuasively. "I will explain to Spencer."
"I will wait."
Everett was irritated and quite out of patience with her. He shrugged his shoulders again and started on.
"You are very good, Everett," Sally called softly. "Thank you, and good night."
He made no reply unless a perfunctory touch of his hat and an impatient mutter could be called a reply; and he was swallowed up by the doorway and admitted by the doorman with a familiar nod and a grin which it was as well, he thought, that Sally did not see. She would not have been surprised if she had seen.
Everett had hardly disappeared when the lurking figure left its post in the shadows and advanced toward Sally. She saw it and braced herself for the encounter. In the matter of encounters that lonely street was doing pretty well. For an instant she meditated flight, but instantly decided against it. The man must have known, from her attitude, what was passing in her mind, for he spoke when he was but halfway across.
"Sally," he said gently, "you needn't be frightened. It—"