“Two; but the smallest while finished to arrive. One señor, not quite old, and one señorita of sufficient handsomeness. To their rooms they have ascended, not desiring the to-eat nor the to-drink. Two rooms—Numero 9 and Numero 10.”
“I was expecting that gentleman and that lady,” said Goodwin. “I have important negocios that must be transacted. Will you allow me to see them?”
“Why not?” sighed Madama, placidly. “Why should not Señor Goodwin ascend and speak to his friends? Está bueno. Room Numero 9 and room Numero 10.”
Goodwin loosened in his coat pocket the American revolver that he carried, and ascended the steep, dark stairway.
In the hallway above, the saffron light from a hanging lamp allowed him to select the gaudy numbers on the doors. He turned the knob of Number 9, entered and closed the door behind him.
If that was Isabel Guilbert seated by the table in that poorly furnished room, report had failed to do her charms justice. She rested her head upon one
