Within the minute they were gone. Mary and Clifford, alone in the little room, Jack still pitched unconsciously forward upon the table, looked at each other for a long space. Despite the fake Hawaiian music and the laughter of the mixed world of Le Minuit, which sounded through the thin partitions, there was in reality a deep silence between them. “I want to thank you--I want to thank you very much,” breathed Mary, at length. He seemed not to hear her halting words. “Do you know what is the really big thing about all this?” “What?” He spoke very quickly. “By your action a few minutes ago, you proved that you are not wholly the worldly person you thought you were. The risks you then took were not to save your ambitious plan; you took them to save Jack. You forgot yourself. Through your own scheming Life placed a responsibility on you--and you accepted it. That is the big thing!” She stared at him, bewildered questioning in her pale, dark face. He saw that she still did not understand herself--the impulses which had moved her--and which might still be moving her. For a moment she did not speak. Then she asked, looking down at Jack:-- “But what am I to do now?” “That is for you to decide. When you have decided, I’ll help you.” “If I take Jack from here--” She broke off; and stood gazing thoughtfully at the stupefied boy. “It would do no good unless--unless--” Again she left her sentence uncompleted. The insistent ringing of the little telephone, whose receiver was still dangling, caught her attention. She walked with a manner of decision to the telephone. “Central, please get me the Biltmore,” she requested steadily. “This the Biltmore? Please connect me with Mr. Morton.... Is this Mr. Morton? Mr. Morton, this is Mrs. Grayson--Miss Gilmore, you know. I am now at Le Minuit. I wonder if you would care to meet me here.... Very well, in ten minutes, then. I’ll be waiting in a taxi-cab down in front.... My answer to your invitation? Yes--if you want my answer, I’ll have it ready.” She hung up. “He was referring to that cruise with him?” asked Clifford. “Yes.” Clifford regarded her curiously: What was her purpose in summoning Mr. Morton into this situation? “I want to get Jack down into a taxi-cab,” Mary went on. “How can I do it?--and without attracting attention?” “That’s easy. Nothing of that sort attracts attention at Le Minuit.” He pressed a button, and from the waiter who appeared he demanded the immediate presence of Monsieur Le Bain. Two minutes later the proprietor entered. “Joe,” Clifford ordered briefly, “get Mr. Morton’s things, whatever they are, and have two of your waiters help him down into a taxi, and have the taxi wait till we come down. Everything quiet, mind you.” “Sure,” said the Frenchman from somewhere below Fourteenth Street.