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carelessness drifted to the side of Carlotta Drew, who sat near the stairs. They talked eagerly in low tones; evidently they had much that was important to say to each other. Ignoring us all, Barnes sat staring gloomily into space. He seemed for the moment a discouraged man.
The bell of the telephone, which was in a closet under the stairs, rang sharply. Barnes jumped up and entered the closet, shutting the door behind him. We could hear his voice, faint, far away.
“Hello, Riley! . . . Yes. What is it? . . . Yes. . . . That’s good. . . . Fine work, Riley. . . . Better take her to the station. Wait a minute—bring her up here first. Yes. Good-by.”
When Barnes emerged from the closet his face was beaming. He said nothing, but ran up the stairs two at a time.
