again. She did not hesitate until she saw him stop before the entrance of one of those shabbier side-street hotels which are little more than bed-houses with bar-room attachments. She was well within a sheltering doorway as he stood looking sharply back along the almost empty thoroughfare. Then he made a dive for his warren.
Sadie stood there for several moments. Then, once her plan of action was formulated, she swung west and north again to Forty-second Street. Near the corner of Madison Avenue she dipped into a trunk-shop, bought a cheap rattan suit-case and swung back eastward again. At the Grand Central news-stand she bought seven magazines, the bulkiest she could find, and half a dozen newspapers. These she stowed away in the suit-case, concluding this to be the quickest way to give it sufficient weight for a lady traveling light. Then she promptly proceeded to the squalid caravansary, whose only splendor was its brightly gilded brewery sign, where Shindler had already installed himself.
She was given a room, together with many heavily inquiring glances, on the third floor. She was oblivious of both its meager furniture and its unkempt condition, for once she was alone she placed
