Five minutes' walk brought him to the building that had sheltered him for the last few years.

He climbed the stairs and entered the long hail above.

He paused, key in hand, before his door, when he heard behind him a light footfall on the uncarpeted floor and the swish of a woman's skirts.

As he turned abruptly, the woman who had evidently followed him up from the street, came swiftly down the hall toward him.
"Jack!" she said, when she was quite near.
The short winter's day had brought an early twilight to the place, and the woman was closely veiled, but the moment she spoke North recognized her, for there was something in the mellow full-throated quality of her speech which belonged only to one voice that he knew.
"Mrs.Langham!--Evelyn!" he exclaimed, starting back in dismay.
"Hush, Jack, you needn't call it from the housetops!" As she spoke she swept aside her veil and he saw her face, a superlatively pretty face with scarlet smiling lips and dark luminous eyes that were smiling, too.
"Do you want to see me, Evelyn ?" he asked awkwardly.
But she was neither awkward nor embarrassed; she was still smiling up into his face with reckless eyes and brilliant lips.

She pointed to the door with her small gloved hand.
"Open it, Jack!" she commanded.
For a moment he hesitated.