"Lawrence? Lawrence? I can't remember. Is it a woman's name?"
"No; it is not a woman's name, it's a man's name. Edwin Lawrence."
"Why do you ask? Do you know him?"
"I do; and so do you."
"I! How do you know I know him?"
"Because, last night, it was from his room you came to mine."
I regarded her with what quite possibly were accusatory glances; but if I expected my words to take her by surprise, or to cause her to betray signs of guilt, I was mistaken. She met my glances with serenely untroubled countenance, as if she were wondering what exactly my meaning might chance to be.
"I came to your room from his? What was I doing in his room?"
"Think! Try to think! You must remember what happened in Edwin Lawrence's room to cause you to fly through his window, taking refuge anyhow and anywhere."
"You say that I came from his room to yours; how did I come?"
"Along the balcony. You must have rushed through his window straight to mine; whether you tried other windows as you passed I cannot say. Perhaps mine was the first which you found open."
"Then his room is in this house?"
