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EN minutes later Wade sprang from a cab in front of the Fifty-third Street residence and ran up the steps. It differed in outward appearance but little from a dozen other houses in that end of the block; brown-stone front, high Dutch stoop, broad windows hung with panel curtains, iron grilled doors. But to Wade it was different from any other house in the world, for in it lived the Girl. Even the big mat with the house number in red held a pleasant fascination for him since her feet had trod it. He had his card ready when the door opened.

"Miss Pearse?" he asked pleasantly as he entered the hall.

"Not at home, sir," replied the butler, glancing at the card.