off, only another two flights and--" He
stopped suddenly to listen, and from the landing above a sound reached
them, a sound soft but unmistakable--a woman's muffled sobbing.

Slowly, cautiously, they mounted the stair until in the dim light of a
certain landing they beheld a slim figure bowed upon its knees in an
agony of abasement before a scarred and dingy door. Even as they stared,
the slender, girlish figure sobbed again, and, with a sudden, yearning
gesture, lifted a face, pale in the half-light, and kissed that battered
door; thereafter, weeping still, she rose to her feet and turned, but
seeing Spike, stood very still all at once and with hands clasped tight
together.

"Holy Gee!" exclaimed Spike beneath his breath; then, in a hoarse
whisper: "Is that Maggie--Maggie Finlay?"

"Oh--is that you, Arthur?" she whispered back. "Arthur--oh, Arthur, I,
I'm going away, but I couldn't go without coming to--to kiss dear mother
good-by--and now I'm here I daren't knock for fear of--father. I've been
up to your door and knocked, but Hermy's away, I guess. Anyway,
you--you'll say I came to thank her and--kiss her for the last time,
won't you, Arthur?"

"Sure I will--but where ye goin', Maggie?"

"A long way, Arthur! I don't s'pose I shall ever--see this place any
more--or you--so, Arthur, will you--kiss me good-by--just once?"

Spike hesitated, but she, quick and light-treading, came down to him and
caught his hand and would have kissed that, but he snatched it away and,
leaning forward, kissed her tear-stained cheek, and blushed thereafter
despite the dark.

"Good-by, Arthur!" she whispered, "and thank you--and dear Hermy--oh,
good-by!" So saying, she hurried on past Ravenslee, down the dark
stairway, while Spike leaned over the balustrade to whisper:

"Good-by, Maggie--an' good luck, Kid!" At this she paused to look up at
him with great, sad eyes--a long, wistful look, then, speaking no more,
hurried on down the stair--down, down into the shadows, and was gone.

"We used to go to school together, Geoff," the boy explained a little
self-consciously, "she never--kissed me before; she ain't the kissin'
sort. I wonder why she did it to-night? I wonder--"

So saying, Spike turned and led the way on again until they reached the
landing above, across which two doors, dark and unlovely, seemed to
scowl upon each other. One of these Spike proceeded to open with a
latchkey, and so led Ravenslee into the dark void beyond.