She felt sticky and ashamed when he dropped her off a block away from the McCloskey house as she had requested. She yielded it without protest, as though unconsciously. “I want a vote for myself,” she said. ” “The truth,” she murmured, with her eyes fixed upon him. Either it was an unfortunate recovery of a trail, or he had followed her from Mayfair. The blaze, however, was sufficient to reveal to the thief-taker the features of his intended assassin. On the contrary. Manning. Presently she was going through a swaying, noisy crowd, whose faces grinned and stared pitilessly in the light of the electric standards.
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