and they gained Shaftesbury Avenue and a blessed taxicab.
"To Israel Kensky," she said. "I can't go home like this."
He stretched out of the window and gave fresh instructions.
"I am greatly obliged to you, Mr. Hay," she faltered and then covered her face with her hands. "Oh, it was dreadful, dreadful!"
"What happened?" he asked.
She shook her head. Then suddenly:
"No, no, I must go home. Will you tell the cabman? There is a chance that I may get into my suite without Boolba seeing. Will you go on to Israel Kensky after you have left me, and tell him what has happened?"
He nodded, and again gave the change of instructions.
They reached the hotel at a period when most of the guests were either lingering over their dinner or had gone to the theatre.
"I hate leaving you like this," he said; "how do I know that you will get in without detection?"
She smiled in spite of her distress.
"You're an inventor, aren't you, Mr. Hay?" she laughed. "But I am afraid even you could not invent a story which would convince my father if he knew I had been to that horrible place." Pre-
