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Updated: June 20, 2025
As Rhoda Gray caught up the weapons and thrust them into her pocket, she heard Danglar's furious snarl, and whirling around, she saw the two men locked and struggling in each other's embrace. The Adventurer's voice reached her, quick, imperative: "Show the candle at the window, Rhoda! The Sparrow is waiting for it in the yard below. Then open the door for them."
If the worst came to the worst she would never be at Danglar's mercy while she possessed that revolver and, if the need came, turned it upon herself. They walked on rapidly; the lurching figure beside her covering the ground at an astounding rate of speed. The man made no effort to talk. She was glad of it.
The two forms in there, on their feet again, were spinning around and around with the strange, lurching gyrations of automatons and then she saw the Adventurer whip a terrific blow to Danglar's face and Danglar fall and lie still and the Adventurer come leaping toward her.
Also, it is only fair to tell you, in case you should consider leaving here too hurriedly, that I am really not at all a bad shot even in the dark. I bid you good-night, Danglar and you my dear lady!" Danglar's voice rose again in a flood of profane rage. He stumbled and moved around in the dark. "Damn it!" he shouted. "Where are the matches? Where's the lamp?
To-night, failing to keep her appointment as "Bertha," the crash must come; but before it came, as the White Moll, armed with the knowledge of the crime that had driven Danglar's wife into hiding, and which was Danglar's crime too, and with the evidence in the shape of those jewels in her possession, she and Danglar would meet somewhere alone.
These two men here, like Shluker, were obviously ignorant that Gypsy Nan was Danglar's wife; so she was Pinkie Bonn's hand was on her arm. She had stumbled. "Look out for yourself!" he cautioned under his breath. "Don't make a sound!" They had drawn into a very dark and narrow area way between two buildings, and now Pinkie kept his touch upon her as he led the way along.
"Sure!" said Danglar. "What do you think!" "And after that?" "We bump him off, of course," said Danglar callously. "He knows all about us, don't he? And I guess we'll square up on what's coming to him! He's put the crimp into us for the last time!" Danglar's voice pitched suddenly hoarse in fury. "That's a hell of a question to ask!
She only knew that she was hurrying along the alleyway now, and that he had made no effort to stop her, and that she was grateful to him for that, and that her composure, strained to the breaking point, would have given away if she had remained with him another instant. Danglar's wife! It was dark here in the alley-way, and she did not know where it led to. But did it matter?
And the night again had been without rest, lest Danglar's dreaded footstep come upon her unawares; and the day again had been one of restless, abortive activity, now prowling the streets as Gypsy Nan, now returning to the garret to fling herself upon the cot in the hope that in daylight, when she might risk it, sleep would come, but it had been without avail, for, in spite of physical weariness, it seemed to Rhoda Gray as though her tortured mind would never let her sleep again.
"Got a little sick of your wood-carving, while you stuck around by your lonesome and watched him eh?" Danglar's tones were jocularly facetious. "Don't grouch, Skeeny! We're not killing for fun it doesn't pay. Supposing anything had broken wrong up the Avenue eh? We wouldn't have had our friend the Sparrow there for the next time we tried it!"
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