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 hope to know them, Miss Cumberly. Therefore”—Helen was persistently holding out her hand—“good night! Might I venture to telephone to you in the morning? We could then come to some arrangement, no doubt”…

“You might not find me at home”…

“But at nine o’clock!”

“It allows me no time to make up my party!”

“But such a party must not exceed three: yourself and two others”…

“Nevertheless, it has to be arranged.”

“I shall ring up to-morrow evening, and if you are not at home, your maid will tell me when you are expected to return.”

Helen quite clearly perceived that no address and no telephone number were forthcoming.

“You are committing yourself to endless and unnecessary trouble, Mr. Gianapolis, but if you really wish to do as you suggest, let it be so. Good night!”

She barely touched his extended hand, turned, and ran fleetly back toward the door of Palace Mansions. Ere reaching the entrance, however, she dropped a handkerchief, stooped to recover it, and glanced back rapidly.

Gianapolis was just turning the corner.

Helen perceived the unmistakable form of Denise Ryland lurking in the Palace Mansions doorway, and, waving frantically to her friend, who was nonplussed at this change of tactics, she hurried back