One was a woman. She was reclining on the cushions in the corner nearest the store. Only her shoulder and part of her head were visible to Patsy through the taxicab window, but he could see that she was closely veiled, while her attitude and the position of her head in the angle formed by the cushioned corner denoted that she was dozing, if not sound asleep. What most astonished Patsy Garvan was the woman’s companion, however, whom he saw quite distinctly when the taxicab passed the store. "Great guns!" he mentally exclaimed, though his face did not betray his amazement. "That’s Goulard’s former partner, Mr. Henry Mantell, as sure as I’ve got eyes in my head. What’s the meaning of this? What business can he have with such a woman as Sadie Badger? He certainly is stopping there to see her." Patsy had no doubt of his identity, did not for a moment distrust his slightly bowed figure, his gray hair and beard, his gold-bowed spectacles and distinguished, aristocratic aspect and attire, observed when the man alighted from the taxicab and hurried into the house, upon finding the door of the lower hall was unlocked. "Gee whiz! this beats me to a standstill," thought Patsy, with increasing perplexity. "I’ll be hanged if I can fathom it." "What are you thinking about?" Steel asked curiously. "Is there something wrong?" "I’m not sure," replied Patsy. "You keep out of sight, please, and let me do the watching. I’ll make it right with you later." "It’s all right, now, Garvan," said the clerk, moving quickly to the rear of the store. Patsy continued to gaze stealthily from the store window. Several minutes passed and brought no change in the situation. The curtains at the windows of the ground-floor flat had not been raised. Nothing denoted that the visitor had been admitted. The veiled woman in the corner of the taxicab had not stirred. The chauffeur remained as motionless on his seat as a figure of bronze. Patsy, more deeply puzzled, fell to watching the woman, or the small part of her figure which he could see through the taxicab window. She continued motionless, as absolutely motionless as if the hand of death had been laid upon her. The veil that covered her mouth and nostrils, even, did not indicate by the slightest movement that she was breathing. "Great guns!" thought Patsy, quite nonplused. "She must be in a trance, or sleeping like a log. I’ll be hanged if I don’t have a closer look at her." Turning to Steel, in the rear of the store, he cried quietly: "I’ll be back here in a couple of minutes." Steel merely nodded in reply. Patsy left the store and sauntered across the avenue, then walked more briskly toward the waiting taxicab, apparently having no interest in it, and whistling a popular song while he passed. He took a furtive look at the chauffeur, nevertheless, who was a muscular, red-featured man of about thirty, and who appeared too stiff and staid to bestow even a glance at him.