we didn’t rent soots t’ single women, which is true. Mebbe I was kind o’ rough, but I was a-skeered t’ have her around, fer I kind o’ believe she’s crazy, so purty soon, after some more talkin’, she give it up an’ went away.”
As we went down in the elevator, I pondered this remarkable story. Could it really have been Miss Croydon? But what possible reason could she have for wishing to rent the rooms? How could she nerve herself to enter them again? Was it the rooms and not the man that had brought her to the Marathon? Did they hold the key to the mystery? Did they contain some secret…
The car stopped. A man and woman were waiting to be taken up. At the man I did not even glance, for his companion held my eyes. Such fierce, dark, passionate beauty I had never seen before, and my nerves were still tingling with the sight of it as I left the building and turned westward toward my rooms.
