Then he walked across to Jane Street and as far as the house he was watching, and gazed up at her darkened windows. For half an hour or so he sauntered back and forth between her house and the corner. The night had grown warmer and he loosened his light grey overcoat and threw it back. Now and then he noticed that the shadowy shape of Carter had not stirred. That did not concern him for a while. But, as the hour wore on, irritation increased and his nerves became more susceptible to annoyance. And once, although his contempt for Carter remained supreme, he ran his right hand over the coat pocket where the pistol sagged,--a movement involuntary and quite unconscious. A little before eleven a taxi-cab suddenly turned out of Greenwich Avenue and halted before the house in which Eris dwelt. Smull was prowling some distance to the westward on the opposite side of the street; and the sudden appearance of the cab caught him unprepared. He started back instantly; but even before he arrived opposite the house she had entered it, carrying her suitcase. Her taxi-cab, however, remained waiting. Smull gazed up at her windows. Suddenly a light broke out behind the lowered shades. He looked across at the waiting taxi. He was going to have another chance. When the light went out behind the yellow shades it would be time enough to cross the street. He thought so. Meanwhile, he would wait. He’d take his time. What’s time to a gentleman? * * * * * Eris had lighted the apartment, had taken one swiftly comprehensive glance at the dusty solitude about her, then she hurried to the telephone and gave Annan’s number. And heard his voice, presently: “Who is it?” “_Darling!_” “Eris! Why on earth did you wire me and neglect to tell me what train to meet?” “Because I didn’t know, dearest. Sometimes the Central waits for the local and sometimes it doesn’t. I didn’t want you to spend the evening hanging around the Grand Central----” “You blessed child, I’ve done it. I’ve met every train. They told me there were no more from Whitewater. So I came home.” “_Darling!_ I’m fearfully sorry. They were quite right, too. The Central did not wait for the local, so I took a taxi at the station and drove thirty miles to catch an express----” “Where on earth are you?” “Home----” “I’m coming----” “No! It’s dusty and messy and horrid. May I come to Governor’s place? I have a taxi--and I’m starved----” “Jump into that taxi instantly! I’ll find Xantippe and have something for you in a few minutes. Will you come at once?” “I’m on the way, Barry.” She was on the way. But it was the feminine way. First of all she had a toilet to make, a complete change of clothing to effect. No girl ever lived who would deny herself that much before she braved her lover.