Page:Arthur Stringer - The Door of Dread.djvu/110

 "There must be," suavely argued Sadie Wimpel, with one ear cocked for any telltale sound from the upper regions through which she had so recently descended.

"Who told you there was?" demanded the man.

Sadie, instead of answering that question, asked another.

"What number is this?" she promptly inquired.

"Two hundred and thirty-one!"

Sadie had backed away until her hand was on the banister-rail leading to the floor below. Nothing, she decided, was now going to come between her and the street.

"Then wasn't it funny of the maid not to tell me?" she murmured in mild perplexity. But she turned about and began her descent.

"What maid?" barked out the man in the bath-robe, following her to the head of the stairs. "Why, your maid, of course," answered the tranquil-eyed young woman who was now half-way down the stairs.

"We have no maid!" decisively and belligerently called out the man at the stair-head.

Sadie had reached the ground floor and was