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And not a word, not a whisper, not a sound until I call you!" She gave him one frightened and piteous glance, then, unquestioning, slipped quietly behind the portieres. To Anisty, again: "Turn your pockets out!" commanded Maitland. "Quick, you fool! The police are below; your freedom depends on your haste." Anisty's hands flew to his pockets, emptying their contents on the floor.
Far in the south the sky came down purple and black to the horizon, where a silver spark glittered like a low-swung star: the torch of Liberty. "I think," Anisty's clear-cut tones, incisive as a razor edge, crossed the listless trend of her thoughts: "I think we will now get down to business, my lady!" She lifted her lashes, meeting his masterful stare with a look of calm inquiry. "Well?"
You can come round at your convenience and arrange the details with me, at my rooms, since you will be so kind." "I dunno." Hickey licked his lips, watching with a somber eye the preparations being made for the removal of Anisty's body. "I'd 've give a farm if I could've caught that son of a gun alive!" he added at apparent random, and vindictively. "All right.
The wonder of it all saved the day for Maitland; Anisty's astonishment was sincere and the more complete in that, unlike Maitland, he had been unprepared to find any one in the library. For a mere second his gaze left Maitland and traveled on to the girl, then to the rifled safe taking in the whole significance of the scene. When he spoke, it was as if dazed.
A second figure, rapidly taking shape as Anisty's, stood by the controller, braced against the side of the car, one hand on the lever, the other poising a shining thing, the flesh-colored oval of his face turned upwards in a supposititious attempt to discern the location of the dark car. Hickey, by firing prematurely, lent him adventitious aid.
She had such faith in his tender and gentle kindness now.... She had divined so clearly the motive that had permitted Anisty's escape in order that she might be saved, not alone from Anisty, not alone from the shame of imprisonment, but from herself as well from herself as Maitland knew her.
A block further down another fell into line; and he it was who panted at the step an instant after the cab had lurched to a stop before the entrance to the St. Luke Building. Hickey had rolled out before the policeman had a chance to bluster. "'Lo, Bergen," he greeted the man. "Yeh know me I'm Hickey, Central Office. Yeh're jus' in time. Anisty's in this buildin' 'r was ten minutes ago.
As if in contradiction of the suggestion, there came to her ears very clearly the sound of the hall door creaking on its hinges, and then a man's voice, shrill with anger and anxiety. "You fool! Do you want to ruin us both? What do you mean " The door crashed to, interrupting the protest and drowning Anisty's reply.
Indeed, he had hardly thought any coherent thing about the matter. The ring of the girl's "No!" had startled him, and he had somehow thought, vaguely, that O'Hagan had surprised her in the flat. But more than that.... He glanced swiftly aside at the girl standing still beneath the chandelier, the match in one hand burning toward her finger-tips, in the other Anisty's revolver.
"This is what I might have ... expected, I suppose ... man of Anisty's stamp ... desperate character ... it's all right, Dan, my just due...." "I don't understand, of course," faltered Maitland. Bannerman lay still a moment, then continued: "I know you don't. That's why I sent for you.... 'Member that night at the Primordial? When the deuce was it?
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