AT THE TABLE NEXT
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on her business-like hat and stalked out. Still the woman at the next table waited.
It was a relief when the meal was over. We got our hats and were about to leave the room, when a waiter touched me on the arm.
"I beg your pardon, sir," he said, "but the lady at the table near the window, the lady in black, sir, would like to speak to you."
I looked down between the rows of tables to where the woman sat alone, her chin still resting on her hand, her black eyes still insolently staring, this time at me.
"I'll have to go," I said to McKnight hurriedly. "She knows all about that affair and she'd be a bad enemy."
"I don't like her lamps," McKnight observed, after a glance at her. "Better jolly her a little. Good-by."
