THE GIRL IN HIS HOUSE
"Sorry to trouble you. Wrong number," said Armitage to the astonished butler.
The taxicab grumbled and sputtered and started off jerkily; but until it wheeled around into Fifth Avenue the butler remained at the curb, while the world-wide traveler never took his bewildered gaze off the house with the lighted windows. Something inconceivable had happened, something so incredible and unexpected that Armitage was at that moment powerless to readjust himself to the event.
"Am I in the middle of a nightmare, or what?" he murmured, fumbling in his pockets for his pipe. "Lights, a butler, and a woman at the window!" All at once he felt inspired.
"I say, driver, what street was that?"
"The street and number you gave me, Sir.
"Seventy-second?"
"Yes, sir."
"Did you see the lights in the windows? Did you see the woman behind the curtains? Did a butler come down the steps?"
"Yes, sir. I heard him ask you if you were Mr. Athelstone."
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