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Rh --er--er--well, after much reflection, I really felt it my duty--I decided to take the risk, that is, to--er"

"To what?" I asked bluntly at last. "For heaven's sake, tell me."

I was beginning to feel uneasy. My threats to Mrs. Bernstein, perhaps, had gone too far. Besides, the effect of the apples was passing and I longed for bed.

He took a gulp. "To warn you," he said, with a grave and ominous expression.

It was a long-winded business before I got him to the point, and even then the point was not really explicit. New York, he kept repeating, was a dangerous place for inexperience, there were strange and desperate characters in it. In the end, I think, my manners exasperated him as much as his vagueness exasperated me, for when he told me he came about "someone very close to you," and I asked point-blank, "Is it someone sharing this room with me?" his final word was a most decided "Yes"--with nothing more. This "someone," I gathered, at any rate, was fooling me, was up to all sorts of tricks, was even "dangerous."

I was infuriated, though I felt a certain sinking of the heart as well. He was attacking either Kay or Boyde, my only friends, both of whom I trusted to the last cent, for both of whom I had sincere affection. If he knew anything definite or really important, why couldn't he say it and be done with it? I put this to him.

"I prefer not to be more explicit," he replied with an air. He was offended. His patronizing offer of advice and sympathy, his pride, were wounded. "I would rather not mention names. It's true all the same," he added. And my patience then gave way. I got up and opened the door. He went without a word, but just as I was about to slam the door after him, he turned.

"Remember," he said, half angrily, half gravely, "I've warned you. He's a real crook. He's already been in gaol."

I banged the door behind him. I felt angry but uncomfortable, and as the anger subsided my uneasiness I