"I have plenty. I was afraid that I might not be able conveniently to return. I am a stranger. My actions might be viewed with suspicion."
"Indeed! Describe Mr. Gregory."
Not of the clinging kind, evidently, he thought. A raving beauty—Diana domesticated!
"It is four years since I saw him. He was then gray, dapper, and erect. A mole on his chin, which he rubs when he talks. He is a valet in one of the fashionable hotels. He is—or was—the only true friend I have in New York."
"Was? What do you mean?"
"I'm afraid something has happened to him. I found his bedroom things tossed about."
"What could possibly happen to a harmless old man like Mr. Gregory?"
"Pardon me, but your egg is burning!"
Kitty wheeled and lifted off the pan, choking in the smother of smoke. She came right-about face swiftly enough. The man had not moved; and that decided her.
"Come in. I will give you something to eat. Sit in that chair by the window, and be careful not to stir from it. I'm a good shot," lied Kitty, truculently. "Frankly, I do not like the looks of this."
"I do look like a burglar, what?" He sat down in the chair meekly. Food and a human being to talk to! A lovely, self-reliant American girl, able to take
