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“Oh, thank you!” he cried, genuinely touched.
“Now take me home,” she added. “We must go carefully around the house and I’ll let myself in at the back door so that Marian won’t know I’ve been out.” She laughed. “Think of your having an assignation with your mother-in-law and having to conceal it from her daughter!”
But when Stacey had seen Mrs. Latimer safely enter the back door of her house, and was walking home along the deserted streets, though he felt warmed and comforted by her unexpected intelligent friendship, he also felt an uneasy sense of disloyalty, as though he and she had become accomplices in a secret league against Marian.
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Stacey arrived in New York one afternoon about a week later. His boat was to sail the next morning. He went to the small hotel on Tenth Street where he always stayed.
“How do you do, Mr. Carroll? Glad to see you, sir,” said the clerk.
Stacey wasted no time, but dropped his suitcase in his room and set off immediately up-town on the top of a motor-bus.