"You've got the wrong place. There ain't no one of that name here," said
the woman.

"There ain't! All right," he insisted aggressively, pushing open the door
in spite of her. "If you don't let this young lady see her quick, there's
trouble coming to you."

"Who are you?" asked the woman, impudently, yet showing signs of fear.

"Never mind who I am," Mr. Tiernan declared. "I know all about you, and I
know all about Duval. If you don't want any trouble you won't make any,
and you'll take this young lady to her sister. I'll wait here for you,
Miss Janet," he added.

"I don't know nothing about her--she rented my room that's all I know,"
the woman replied sullenly. "If you mean that couple that came here
yesterday--"

She turned and led the way upstairs, mounting slowly, and Janet followed,
nauseated and almost overcome by the foul odours of dead cigarette smoke
which, mingling with the smell of cooking cabbage rising from below,
seemed the very essence and reek of hitherto unimagined evil. A terror
seized her such as she had never known before, an almost overwhelming
impulse to turn and regain the air and sunlight of the day. In the dark
hallway of the second story the woman knocked at the door of a front
room.

"She's in there, unless she's gone out." And indeed a voice was heard
petulantly demanding what was wanted--Lise's voice! Janet hesitated, her
hand on the knob, her body fallen against the panels. Then, as she pushed
open the door, the smell of cigarette smoke grew stronger, and she found
herself in a large bedroom, the details of which were instantly
photographed on her mind--the dingy claret-red walls, the crayon over the
mantel of a buxom lady in a decollete costume of the '90's, the outspread
fan concealing the fireplace, the soiled lace curtains. The bed was
unmade, and on the table beside two empty beer bottles and glasses and
the remains of a box of candy--suggestive of a Sunday purchase at a drug
store--she recognized Lise's vanity case. The effect of all this,
integrated at a glance, was a paralyzing horror. Janet could not speak.
She remained gazing at Lise, who paid no attention to her entrance, but
stood with her back turned before an old-fashioned bureau with a marble
top and raised sides. She was dressed, and engaged in adjusting her hat.
It was not until Janet pronounced her name that she turned swiftly.

"You!" she exclaimed. "What the--what brought you here?"

"Oh, Lise!" Janet repeated.