ele looked as if she had
had a spell of sickness. Her eyes were large and glassy, her skin cold
and sweaty, and she looked positively pallid and thin.

As they entered the store Muller, the druggist, bowed again and looked
at Adele a moment as she leaned over the counter and whispered
something to him. Without a word he went into the arcana behind the
partition that cuts off the mysteries of the prescription room in every
drug store from the front of the store.

When Muller returned he handed her a packet, for which she paid and
which she dropped quickly into her pocketbook, hugging the pocketbook
close to herself.

Adele turned and was about to hurry from the store with Constance. "Oh,
excuse me," she said suddenly as if she had just recollected something,
"I promised a friend of mine I'd telephone this afternoon, and I have
forgotten to do it. I see a pay station here." Constance waited.

Adele returned much quicker than one would have expected she could call
up a number, but Constance thought nothing of it at the time. She did
notice, however, that as her friend emerged from the booth a most
marvelous change had taken place in her. Her step was firm, her eye
clear, her hand steady. Whatever it was, reasoned Constance, it could
not have been serious to have disappeared so quickly.

It was with some curiosity as to just what she might expect that
Constance went around to the famous cabaret that night. The Mayfair
occupied two floors of what had been a wide brownstone house before
business and pleasure had crowded the residence district further and
further uptown. It was a very well-known bohemian rendezvous, where
under-, demi-and upper-world rubbed elbows without friction and seemed
to enjoy the novelty and be willing to pay for it.

Adele, who was one of the performers, had not arrived yet, but
Constance, who had come with her mind still full of the two unexpected
encounters with Drummond, was startled to see him here again.
Fortunately he did not see her, and she slipped unobserved into an
angle near the window overlooking the street.

Drummond had been engrossed in watching some one already there, and
Constance made the best use she could of her eyes to determine who it
was. The outdoor walk and a good dinner had checked her headache, and
now the excitement of the chase of something, she knew not what,
completed the cure.

It was not long before she discovered that Drummond was watching
intently, without