you. I'll run in to see you in about an hour. Be there. Good-bye."
Leaving the telephone booth, Carter walked out of the building onto the sidewalk and hired a passing taxi. When next he alighted it was on De Lacey Street about a block from the flat occupied by Pop Dillon and Jane. Carter consulted an address written in a little red book. Then he walked down De Lacey Street, stopped, ascended four well-worn stone steps and pulled the Dillons' bell.
Jane came to the door. Carter took off his hat, smiled in friendly fashion and said, "Is this Miss Dillon?"
Jane nodded.
He went on, "I understand you have a room to rent here. I'm seeking new quarters and would like to look your room over."
Jane stared at him in some surprise. He was so well and obviously so expensively dressed that she wondered what he could be doing looking for a room in that modest neighborhood. But Carter could be very pleasant when he wanted to be and on this particular occasion he was on his best behavior.
"I'll show you the room if you like," said Jane. "But it's really quite small."
"I don't mind. My tastes are simple," Carter replied, following her down the hallway and toward the rear of the house. At the same time he was observing that Jane was a very pretty girl and that his task in this house was perhaps not going to prove so irksome and so strictly business as he had feared.
