“Tell him,” she gasped, “to drive as fast as he can.”
Hennie grinned at his friend the chauffeur. “Allie veet!” said he. Then he composed himself and sat on the small seat facing us.
The gold powder-box came out again. Again the poor little puff was shaken; again there was that swift, deadly-secret glance between her and the mirror.
We tore through the black-and-gold town like a pair of scissors tearing through brocade. Hennie had great difficulty not to look as though he were hanging on to something.
And when we reached the Casino, of course Mrs. Raddick wasn’t there. There wasn’t a sign of her on the steps—not a sign.
“Will you stay in the car while I go and look?”
But no—she wouldn’t do that. Good heavens, no! Hennie could stay. She couldn’t bear sitting in a car. She’d wait on the steps.
“But I scarcely like to leave you,” I murmured. “I’d very much rather not leave you here.”
At that she threw back her coat; she turned and faced me; her lips parted. “Good heavens—why! I—I don’t mind it a bit. I—I like waiting.” And suddenly her cheeks crimsoned, her eyes grew dark—for a moment I thought she was going to cry. “L—let me,
