"I do not recognize the address," said she, smiling, as she turned
toward me.

"Is it this door on M Street, as you go beyond this other street?" I
asked her. "Come--think!"

Then I thought I saw the flush deepen on her face, even as the match
flickered and failed.

I leaned out of the door and called to the negro driver. "Home, now,
boy--and drive fast!"

She made no protest.




CHAPTER V

ONE OF THE WOMEN IN THE CASE

There is a woman at the beginning of all great things.
--_Lamartine_.

A quarter of an hour later, we slowed down on a rough brick pavement,
which led toward what then was an outlying portion of the town--one not
precisely shabby, but by no means fashionable. There was a single lamp
stationed at the mouth of the narrow little street. As we advanced, I
could see outlined upon our right, just beyond a narrow pavement of
brick, a low and not more than semi-respectable house, or rather, row of