It proved to be the end dwelling of a long wooden block in the upper East Side. The end house in which she dwelt was within fifty yards of the swirling waters of East River. The intervening space was occupied with a motley aggregation of old buildings devoted to divers uses. They extended even to the walled bank of the restless river, a large sign on the farthest one bearing the single word: “Lime.” “Not a savory section, by Jove,” thought Nick, after watching the woman enter the house. “I’ll allow reasonable time for Goulard to have been seen and sent here, and then I’ll tackle the woman and--well, the proof of a pudding is its eating.” Nick waited less than ten minutes, however, apprehending that Goulard might possibly arrive before he could hoodwink Sadie Badger, and he then approached the house and rang the doorbell. “I shall hear the rascal ring, of course, if he shows up before I have got in my work,” he said to himself while waiting on the steps. “I’ll arrest both of them in that case and land them where they belong.” Nick had waited only about a minute when the door was opened by the woman herself, divested of her street garments, and wearing a loose woolen house jacket. She gazed sharply at him, and Nick at once said inquiringly: “Miss Badger?” “Yes, I am Miss Badger,” said Sadie, nodding a bit coldly. “I am the man Moll Damon told you about--Gaston Goulard.” “You arrive here very soon after my talk with her,” said Sadie suspiciously. “How did she see you so quickly?” “She did not see me,” said Nick, ready with an explanation. “She telephoned.” “Ah! Come in, Mr. Goulard.” Nick entered and followed her into a small rear parlor, divided from that in front by a curtained doorway. Through the broad portière, however, Nick could see that the front room was unoccupied. Listening intently, moreover, he could hear not a sound indicating that other persons were in the house. Upon taking the chair to which the woman invited him, nevertheless, Nick inquired: “Do I find you alone here? As you may infer, Miss Badger, my business with you is of a private nature.” The woman sat down at the opposite side of a small center table, near which Nick had seated himself. She did not reply for a moment. Resting both elbows on the table and gazing across it at him, she then said, with seeming indifference: “Yes, I am alone here. Contrary to what you say, however, I have not the slightest idea, Mr. Goulard, why you want to meet me.” “Why, then, did you consent to see me?” asked Nick pointedly. “Curiosity,” asserted Sadie tersely. “I wondered what you wanted and what you were like.” “You had no other reason?” “None whatever. You are a total stranger to me, Mr. Goulard.” “Very true,” Nick admitted, and he was glad to do so. “Let’s become friends, then, instead of total strangers. It will be to your advantage.” “Why to my advantage?” questioned Sadie, with brows drooping. “Because of what occurred last night.” “Occurred where?”