where he wouldn't go himself. I'm rather sorry I started now."

The dominant thought in all the complex machinery of Rosalie's mind
was: "And you'll be sorrier before this night's over, boy." But her
voice said:

"I knew you'd see it that way. Now listen and git this carefully:
You're to wear a big ulster and old hat and soft-soled shoes--don't
forget that. You're to come to the back door at a quarter to
nine--exactly. Us servants receive our callers at the back door.
Norcross will be in the parlor at half past, Annette will be in her
room, the other help will be out, Ellen and all. Mrs. Markham takes no
chances--not even with that fool girl--when she's got Norcross. She's
given Ellen theater tickets. That's how careful she is about little
things. You can see how clear the coast will be. I'm goin' to bring you
straight to my room like a visitor. You walk soft!"

"But how about that electric bell?" he asked.

"I disconnected it this morning at the trap with my manicure scissors
an' a hairpin," replied Rosalie, triumphantly.

So, at sixteen minutes to nine, Dr. Blake, feeling a cross between a
detective and a burglar, stole through the alley which backed the
Markham residence, crossed the area, knocked softly at the kitchen
door. It opened cautiously and then suddenly to show the kitchen,
lighted with one dim lamp, and the ample form of Rosalie. With a finger
on her lips, she closed the door behind him. His heart beat fast, less
with a sense of impending adventure than with the thought, which struck
him as he mounted the servants' staircase, that he was divided but by
thin walls from the object of all these strivings and diplomacies--that
for the second time in his life he was under her home roof with
Annette. It was a firm, old house. Their footsteps made not the
slightest creak on the thick-carpeted stairs. At the door of her room,
Rosalie stopped and put her mouth to his ear.

"Step careful inside," she said, "my floor is bare." He stood now in
the neat, low-ceiled housekeeper's parlor. Rosalie turned up the gas,
and indicated by a gesture that he was to stand still. Elaborately, she
closed the registers, plugged the keyhole with her key, and set two
chairs beside him.

"Now sit down," she whispered. "They can't hear us talkin', though we'd
better whisper for safety, but two sets of footsteps might sound
suspicious. The halls are carpeted like a padded cell, which ought to
have put me wise in the beginning."