were accusing Ket; the police had come, at this hour of the night, for Ket.
Joan Daisy thrust trembling toes into slippers and she closed her kimono over her pajamas. Remembrance of the young man, whom she had seen with Adele, alarmed her; and to this she attached Ket's excitement when he had returned to her door, after his expedition to the lake, and so violently had kissed her.
So Ket had gone to Adele's flat and something had happened!
She ran down to the second floor where a police sergeant in uniform, was opening Ket's door. Seeing her, he challenged, "Who are you?"
"My name's Royle," she replied. "What's the matter here?"
"What's it to you?"
"I'm a friend of Mr. Ketlar's. I live upstairs."
"Straight up?" the officer asked. He was an alert, vigorous man of about thirty with a booming voice, which rang in the ears.
"Yes," said Joan.
"I guess we'll talk to you," he boomed, threateningly. "Come in."
She entered and came upon Ket and knew that something very serious indeed had occurred. He was in pajamas and with his hair touseled, as they had got him out of bed; he was pale and his eyes were wide and staring. A large, solid-looking man in plain clothes, but who surely was a policeman, confronted him.
"Oh, Ket!" she cried and, as he stared at her with his lips parted and unable to speak, she knew that the horror, which she saw in him, had just come to him. She was sure that he could not have known it when he had seized and kissed her at her door.
"What is it?" she begged of him.
