y.

But Clare had pressed aside the heavy curtain framing the window until
she could command the stoop. Two men were waiting there. "Oh!" she
breathed, almost reeling back upon Tottie. "Oh, don't let 'em in!
Don't! I can't see anybody! Say I'm gone! Oh, please, Tottie! I'm
gone for good." She was beside Barbara again, and was almost lifting
the child from the floor by an arm. Then she reached for the bird-cage.

"Friends of yours?" questioned Tottie. She also peeked out.

"No! No!"--and to Barbara, "Come! Don't you speak! Don't open your
mouth! Not a word!" Taking the child with her, she fled into her own
room, closing the door.

The bell rang again, but Tottie took her time. Going to the fireplace,
she turned "The Lorelei" to the wall; then slipping the shawl from her
shoulders, she draped it carelessly over the plaster statuette of the
diving-girl. After which she stepped back, appraised the effect, and
went to open the front door to a large, ill-tempered man in a loose
sack suit, and a young man, tall and white to ghastliness, whose
nostrils quivered and whose mouth was scarcely more than a blue line.

"Good-morning," began Balcome, entering without being asked.

"Won't you step in?" begged Tottie, pointedly.

The door to the back-parlor had opened to a crack. And a face
distorted with fear looked through the narrow opening. Clare heard the
invitation, and the entering men. She shut the door softly.

Tottie followed her visitors. This was a transformed Tottie--all airs
and graces, with just the touch of the dramatic that might be expected
from a great "star." Indeed, she paused a moment, framed by the
doorway, and waited before delivering her accustomed preamble. She
smiled at the elder man, who returned a scowl. She bestowed a brighter
smile on Wallace, who failed to see it, but licked at his lips, and
smoothed his throat, like a man suddenly gone dry. Then she entered,
slowly, gracefully, allowing the teagown to trail.

"As I say," she began, turning her head from side to side with what was
intended to be a pretty movement, "--as I say, it's a real joy to room
your theatrical friends. Because they fetch y' such swell callers."

Balcome, with no interest in this information, aimed toward Wallace a
gesture that was meant to start the matter in hand.

Wallace rallied his wits. "Is Miss--er--Crosby at home?" he asked.

"Miss Crosby," repeated Tottie, with her very best honey-huski