thirty feet away, he halted beside a group of friends and bent over, affectedly poised as he chatted with a girl; and Joan Daisy, watching, suddenly caught a glimpse of the profile and flaxen-colored hair, with electric light shining upon it, and of the shoulders drawn up in the mannerism and posture of the person whom she had seen through the window of Adele's flat. Like Ket, Baretta appeared at this instant; but he was identical with the image of the man etched in her mind, in this same, affected posture as when he had bent over Adele.
Joan Daisy gasped and gaped, but she was absolutely sure of him; for the confusing film, which had clouded her memory, was cleaned away. Oliver pushed around his chair to see what startled her and they both met Baretta glancing back at them. Promptly Oliver coughed and leaned down, as though he had dropped something on the floor, kicking Joan Daisy's foot meaningly. He did not immediately guess that she had now identified Baretta, but supposed that she had recognized some one else, who would serve as well for his news beat.
"We'll be outside in a minute," he whispered, aided in the recovery of composure by the outbreak of music and the movement of dancers to the floor. "You ready?" Oliver asked.
Joan Daisy nodded, with lips pressed tightly, as when Baretta had addressed her, and with her eyes aglow. No longer was she relaxed, nor did she wish the feeling of security; she was sure that she had seen the man who had been with Adele and she could free Ket. Yes; and strike back at Mr. Calvin Clarke, who had come to Ket's flat for the State, in the name of the People of Illinois, and who had never believed her, though she had taken him out alone to the shore to show him her stars, and though she had told him, once, all the truth! Her lips twisted and she clung to the table edge at twinges of the soreness
