Joan Thursday

en, contemptuous gaze of her father. Then she pulled herself to

hat about me?" she

onderous head: "It

in, sharply contentious. "You might's well tel

ation. Thursby hesitated, his large, mottled face sullen and dark in the bluish illuminat

n the store this

ff her face about me at home. And of course old Inness hadn't noth

t deny it?" Th

I don't deny it," she returned,

come to los

one of the floor-walkers

is information, and he regarded his daughter with

o this man, Winter?

g like that on me again. So he reported me up t

y, while Joan sat upright, maintaining her attitude of independence and defiance, and Butch, grinni

mother, like twin ghosts in their night-dresses, stealing silently,

length, lifting his weary, haunted gaze to his daughte

irmly. "That's wha

d with decision. "I w

dog's wages-and that eaten up by fines because I won't go out with the floor-walkers. I'm going to do the b

ed without mirth. "You're old e

ery dollar I make to keep us all from starving. God knows what we'd do if it wasn't for me with a steady job, and Edna working during the season.

of her foot. Thursby likewise got up, if more slu

age-no!" he said. "That

on't agree with you. I'm going down town first thing tomorrow to

orders to you, and you'll obey 'em or I'll know the reason why. You...." He faltered as if choking. Then he flung out an arm, with a violent

Joan screamed passionately into his louring fac

ed by a smothered gasp and a spa

n of almost ludicrous disconcertion shadowed his discoloured features. Then slowly, as if thoughtf

air-shaft, Butch got up, removed his hat and car

an't use that tone to me, young woman, and live in this house. More than that, you'll lea

nig

ened; but the glint in her

e in what he thought to be evidences of consternation.

xt words came without premeditation; she was barely conscious,

d beyond reason, Thursby lifted a

ack, with a movement so swift and deft that its purpose was accomplished and the hand p

mprehend the fact of thi

nselled in a pleasant, unstrained tone-"beat it

ed the door. Stumbling blindly in the murk, she was

above no sound of pursuit to speed her on; yet on she went, out of the house, to

aint and vain regret. She gave no heed to the way she went: impulse controlled and blind instinct guided her. But at the corner

d a lodging for the night. Tomor

re for the last time that evening, was gone. Whether some sneak-thief had robbed her on a surface-car or in the Broadway rabble, or whether the lock had been broken, releasing its poor treasure, during her struggle with Austin on the stairs-or afterwards or before-she could not guess

rrefutable in her understanding,

nty store of small change: three quarters, a nickel, sev

succeeded in sorting out a folded scrap of paper bearing a pencilled memorandum, faint almost to illegibility,

o Madison Avenue and there signalled and boarded a southbound surface-car. It carried few passenger

re-abouts a mystery to her erstwhile associates-though rumours were not lacking in support of a shrewd suspicion that she had "gone on the stage." The truth only transpired when, one day, she drifted languidly up to the counter behind which she had once served, haughtily inspe

n "English accent"-or what Joan and Gussie ingenuously accepted as such. As practised by Miss Maizie Dean this embellishment consisted merely in broadening every A in the language (when

el: "If ever you dream of goin' into the business, my deah, don't do anythin' before you see me. That ad-dress will always make me, no

" She had no more doubt that Maizie would make it her business, even at cost of personal inconvenience, to secure her an engagement, than she had that tomorrow's sun would rise upon a world tenanted by one Joan Thurs

ngacre Square. Here on the corner, she paused to don her coat; for the low-swinging draper

like moiré silk, its blushing canopy of cloud, its air filled with an infinity of globular atoms of moisture, swirling and weltering in a shimmer of incandescence: it was like a pool of lim

Joan and addressed her in a whisper of loathly intimacy. Fortunately she did not hear what he said. Even as he spoke she slip

ers of windows were all dark and lightless, but on the fourth floor a single oblong shone with gas-light, while on the fifth as many as three were dully aglow. T

re abode, cold and crawling. From something in the sedate as

found it just below a small strip of paper glued to the stone; frayed and weatherbeaten, it publi

alyze, this announcement spelled encourageme

waited while the cold of dread spread from her heart to chill and benumb her hands and feet. She heard never a sound. It was n

e, driving rain that swept aslant up

to the earth. Only vaguely did she recognize in this the symptoms of immense physical fatigue

o friendless. Huddled in the shallow recess of the doorway, she fought her emotions silently for a time, then broke down

direction of Longacre Square, walking with a deliberation which suggested that he was either indifferent to or unconscious of the rain. Turning up th

d pursing his lips in a noiseless whistl

g tempest of her grief

hat's the

ars a blurred impression of her interrogator. A man.... She ceased instantly to cry and shrank hastily out of his way

lated. "You're in trou

self. She dared to linger and hope rather than

er voice-"only I-I wanted to see Miss

ion. "But Madame Duprat never does answer the door after twelve o'clock, you know. She says people have no right to call on u

r sympathetic if something origin

-perhaps-she

een her leave it. I fancy she thinks one of us might mo

ted: "You really thi

Madame Duprat. Ah ... Miss Dean ... now ... I

ed eagerly. "If I could only

"Possibly asleep. But at home. O positively!" He inserted a key in the lock and

a hat with dark clothing. His attitude was more explicitly impersonal than that of any man with whom she had as yet come into contact: she could detect in it no least trace either of condescens

endowed him: she chose to be reminded in some intangible, elusive fashion, of that flower of latter-day chivalry who had once whisked her out of persecution into his taxicab and t

f dwelling, now happily obsolescent. The floor was of tiles, alternately black and white: a hideous checker-board arrangement. A huge hat-rack, black walnut framing a morbid mirror, towered on the one hand; on the other rose a h

ll the house any sounds other than th

good enough

eared. The girl waited on the threshold of a cool and airy chamber, apparently occupying the entire rear hal

ute: I'll m

h a slight plup! a gas drop-light with a green shade leapt magically out of the obscurity, discovering the silhouette of a tall, spare figure

"Now, if you don't mind sitting down and waiting a min

an-Maizi

nk y

and presently she heard hi

f her weariness was indeed a very serious matter with her. Her very wits shirked the labo

tood on a long, broad table littered with a few books and a great many papers, inkstands, pens, blotters, ash-trays, pipes: all in agreeable disorder. Beyond this table was one smaller, which supported a typ

an anodynous atmosphere

returning down the long staircase. When these last sounded on the tiled flooring, the girl spurred her flagging senses and

rried reassurance; and, taking her compliance for something

ter surprised her to remember, Joan sank back, eyes e

set eyes at once whimsical and thoughtful, and a mouth thin-lipped but generously wide. He rested an elbow on the table a

and May,' are on the road. So I'm informed by Madame Duprat, at least. They're

ly that she was. She made no effort to speak, but after

Of course, if you must, I won't detain you: the door is open, your way clear

resentment. A warm wave of colour

've got no place to sleep

s slightly and dropped

" he admitted. "I'm sorry..

she said sharply.

errupted suavely. "But I'd be sorry to think of you out the

, wondering if she had

spark of indignation kindled in the girl while she endured his brief, impersonal, silent examinat

of the chair with a swift movement

here-and there's a good bolt on the door. Of course, it's very unconventional, but I hope you'll be kind enough to overlook that, considering

ty, and added a pleading "Now don't say no!"

I've left home?"

erlock Holmes-Dupin-that sort of tommyrot, you k

you knew," she

or twice through his hair in

quite tel

sion. "I lost my job today, and because I said I wanted

it was something like that. But there isn't really any reason

lsively: "You do

that sort of thing.... But if you'll listen to me a moment-why, then if you want to go, I shan't detain you.... My name is John Matthias. My trade is writing things-plays, mostly: I know

om the table, folded them hastily

ter. Good night. I do hop

ct herself, he had his hat and han

n afte

Mr. Ma

his shoulder while fumbl

't let

must-really

the doo

can you trust me w

e but play 'scripts, and they're not worth anything. You ca

door and banged th

and for a moment stood doubting. Then, with a bewildered look, she re

coat-collar for the better protection of his linen, and surveyed with a wry gr

ellow to do," he mus

rowed my own umbrella.... But that would hardly have been c

ul things?... If I only knew

id pace for the Hotel Astor; which in due t