FLIGHT
Perhaps the man had expected something of the sort, analyzing Maitland's words and manner. At all events he was quick to appreciate. This was what he had been engaged for and what he had been paid for royally, in advance.
Seizing reins and whip, he jerked the startled animal between the shafts out of its abstraction and
"I say, cabby! One moment!"
The cabman turned; the figure on the stoop of the house was undoubtedly Maitland's—Maitland as he had just seen him, with the addition of a hat. As he looked the man was at the wheel, clambering in.
"Changed my mind—I'm coming along, cabby," he said cheerfully. "Drive us to the St. Luke Building, please and—hurry!"
"Yessir!"
Bitter as poverty the cruel lash cut round the horse's flanks; and as the hansom shot out at break-neck speed toward Fifth Avenue, the girl cowered back in her corner, shivering, staring wide-eyed at the man who had so coolly placed himself at her side.
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