that it had a deserted appearance. There was only one light burning in a far corner. He glanced at his watch. Nearly eleven! Had he stayed so long? Oh, well! He put on his hat, and then lit a fresh cigarette. Suddenly he observed that beneath the light in the far corner Miss Jerome was seated at her desk as usual. She was knitting.
"You here still?" he exclaimed, instinctively removing his hat and cigarette at sight of her, and approaching her desk. "I'm sorry. Were you waiting till I cleared out?"
Reba kept on knitting.
"Oh, I didn't mind."
"I had no idea I was keeping any one," he told her.
"Oh, you weren't," she assured him, her eyes still downcast.
"Nor that it was so late, either. Haven't they a janitor around this place? What is it you have to do, anyhow?"
Reba still kept her eyes safely on her amber needles.
"Just turn out a few lights, and lock a few doors. That's all."
"Well, look here, you must let me help," he said, and tossed his cigarette into the basket by Reba's desk.
"Oh, no—please don't bother," replied Reba. "I don't mind. Really. But it's very kind of you," she added, glancing up, and hastily dropping her eyes again.
They were all alone in the big, hollow-sounding room—absolutely alone in this section of the building. The color began mounting to Reba's cheeks. Dr. Booth surveyed her a moment in silence. By George, how pretty the little secretary was, blushing slowly like that!
Chadwick Booth enjoyed pretty girls, when he had
