When Jane Dillon parted from Steven Carter in front of her house, following their taxi ride downtown from the Biltmore, it was with her first vague feeling of uneasiness toward the Dillons' star boarder. Under ordinary circumstances she might have been a little flattered with the regard for her which this handsome, well-groomed stranger expressed. What girl of her age, with little experience with men, wouldn't be? But Carter had been too precipitous in his signs of affection for a girl of Jane's modesty and innocence. . Besides, there kept recurring to her the suspicious attitude which Speedy took toward the man.
Speedy, she admitted to herself, was seldom wrong in his judgment of people, though, to be sure, in this case it might be that jealousy was coloring his opinions. That must be it—jealousy. Surely so obviously well-bred a gentleman as Carter could have no dealings with the type of thug who had nearly ruined her grandfather.
And, she recalled, Carter had desisted in his attentions in the taxicab as soon as she mildly rebuked him. His parting from her had been almost formal in its politeness. She began to feel more kindly to him.
She entered the house. There was no use for the present to call Daisy Ryan on the telephone. Daisy
