"No'm, he ain't in."
The next enquiry was intelligible: the speaker had entered the hallway.
"Are you sure?"
"Yas'm. Sumbody done call him up 'bout ten min'tes ago, an' I rung an' rung an' he don' answer. He ain't in or he don' mean to answer nobody, tha's all."
"I am very anxious about him. Have you a key to his rooms?"
"Yas'm, I got a pass-key, but"
"Please use it. Take this. Go in and make sure he is out, or if at home that he is all right."
"Yas'm, thanky ma'am, but"
"Do as I tell you. I will see that you don't get into trouble."
"All right, ma'am." The negro chuckled, probably over his tip. "Yo' sho' has got the p'suadin'est way. …"
The Irishman caught the German's arm. "Come out of this," he pleaded.
"No fear. I'll see it through. That's the Brooke girl the fool got in with on the boat. She may know something. …"
"But"
"Leave this to me. You look out for the negro. I'll take care of Miss Cecelia Brooke."
Swearing unhappily, the Irishman flattened against the wall to one side of the door. Karl waited behind it as it admitted the hall attendant, who made directly toward the central chandelier.
"Yo' jes' wait, ma'am, an' I'll mek a light an'"
