ntil about one. At least leave Helene with me,
if you care more for bed than fun."

But Ruyler had merely laughed and taken his wife home. Helene had made
no protest; on the contrary had put her arm through his in the car and
her head on his shoulder, vowing she was worn out, and glad to go home.
It was only afterward that it occurred to him that she had clung to him
that night.

Spaulding entered the library without taking off his hat, and chewing a
toothpick vigorously. He began to talk at once, stretching himself out in
a Morris chair, and accepting a cigar. This time Price smoked with him.

"Well," said the detective, "it's like the game of button, button, who's
got the button? Sometimes I think I'm getting a little warmer and then I
go stone cold. But I've found out a few things, anyhow. How tall should
you say Madame Delano is? I've only seen her sitting on her throne there
in the Palace Court lookin' like an old Sphinx that's havin' a laugh all
to herself."

"About five feet ten."

"The Mother Superior said six feet, but no doubt when she had figger
instead of flesh she looked taller. Well, I've discovered no less than
five tall handsome brunettes that sparkled here in the late Eighties and
early Nineties, but it's the deuce and all to get an exact description
out of anybody, especially when quite a few years have elapsed. Most
people don't see details, only effects. That's what we detectives come up
against all the time. So, whether these ladies were five feet eight, five
feet ten, or six feet, whether they had large features or small, big
hands and feet or fine points, or whether they added on all the inches
they yearned for by means of high heels or style, is beyond me. But here
they are."

He took his neat little note-book from his pocket and was about to read
it, when Ruyler interrupted him.

"But surely you know whether these women were French or not?"

"Aw, that's just what you can't always find out. Lots of 'em pretend to
be, and others--if they come from good stock in the old country--want you
to forget it. But the queens generally run to French names, as havin' a
better commercial value than Mary Jane or Ann Maria. One of these was
Marie Garnett, who wasn't much on her own but spun the wheel in Jim's
joint down on Barbary Coast, which was raided just so often for form's
sake. She always made a quick getaway, was never up in court, and died
young. Gabrielle ran an establishment down on Geary Str