nge of clothing.
Obviously, he could not present himself to Doris in the sketchy ensemble
he presented now; or could he? He decided that he could, and must. To
remain in his present state of suspense a moment longer than he need do
was unthinkable.

In a surprisingly short time he was in the studio building, facing the
man Sam had called Henry, a yawning night elevator man who regarded him
and his questions with a pessimism partly due to the lack of sleep and
fatigue. These combined influences led him to make short work of getting
rid of this unkempt and unseasonable caller.

"No, sah," he said. "Miss Mayo don' receive no callers at dis yere hour.
No, sah, Sam don' come on tell eight o'clock. No, sah, I cain't take no
messages to no ladies what ain't out dey beds yit. I got to perteck dese
yere folks, I has," he ended austerely.

The caller peeled a bill from his ever-ready roll, and the face of the
building's guardian angel changed and softened.

"P'raps I could jes' knock on Miss Mayo's do'," he suggested after a
thought-filled interval.

"That's all I want," agreed Laurie. "Knock at her door and ask her if
Mr. Devon may call at nine and take her out to breakfast. Tell her he
has something very important to say to her."

"Yaas, sah."

The guardian was all humility. He accepted the bill, and almost
simultaneously the elevator rose out of sight. The interval before its
return was surprisingly short, but too long for the nerves of the
caller. Laurie, pacing the lower hall, filled it with apprehensions and
visions which drove the blood from his heart. He could have embraced
Henry when the latter appeared, wearing an expansively reassuring grin.

"Miss Mayo she say, 'Yaas,'" he briefly reported.

Under the force of the nervous reaction he experienced, Laurie actually
caught the man's arm.

"She's there?" he jerked out. "You're sure of it?"

"Yaas, sah." Henry spoke soothingly. By this time he had made a
diagnosis of the caller's condition which agreed with that of the
night-watchman Laurie had just interviewed.

"She say, 'Yaas,'" he repeated. "I done say what you tol' me, and she
say, 'Tell de genman, Yaas,' jes' like dat."

"All right." Laurie nodded and strode off. For the first time he was
breathing naturally and freely. She was there. She was safe. In a little
more than an hour he would see her. In the meantime his urgent needs
were a bath and a change of clothing. As soon as he was dressed he would
g