Chartrand's apartment.
Miss Williams, who was on duty at the telephone desk, saw her--and
whistled softly. The instant the elevator door clanged shut, she rang
Harleston.
"If you can come down a moment, Mr. Harleston," she said softly, "I have
some interesting information for you; it may not be well to--you know."
"I'll be down at once," Harleston replied.
When he appeared, it was with his hat and stick, as though he were going
out.
"If anyone calls, Miss Williams," he remarked, pausing by her desk,
"I'll be back in about half an hour."
"Very well, Mr. Harleston," she replied. Then she lowered her voice.
"Your slender lady of the ripples, of the other night, has just come in.
She's young, and a perfect peach for looks."
"Who is she?" he asked.
"I don't know. She didn't have herself announced; she went straight on
up. Ben!" motioning to the elevator boy, "where did the slender woman,
you just took up, get off?"
"At the fou'th flo', Miss Williams," said Ben. "She went into fo' one."
"You're sure of that?"
"Yas, Miss," the negro grinned, "I waited to see."
Miss Williams nodded a dismissal.
"Four one is Chartrands' apartment," she remarked.
"Is this the lady of the ripples?" Harleston asked, handing her the
photograph of Madeline Spencer.
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