Breaking from his hold, Hermione entered the little parlour, and
sinking down beside the table, crouched there, hiding her face, while
M'Ginnis, leaning in the doorway, watched her, his strong hands twisting
and wrenching at the neckerchief.

"Ah, leave me now!" she pleaded, "you've done enough, so--go now--go!"

"Oh, I'll go. I come here t' put ye wise--an' I have! You're on to it
all now, I guess. Nooport and Fifth Av'ner's a good ways from Hell's
Kitchen and Tenth Av'ner, an' they can't never come together. I guess
there's sure some difference between this swell guy with all his
millions an' a Tenth Av'ner girl as is a--thief's sister--"

Slowly Hermione lifted her head and looked up at him, and M'Ginnis saw
that in her face which struck him mute; the neckerchief fell from his
nerveless fingers and lay there all unheeded.

"Hermione," he muttered, "I--girl, are ye--sick?"

"Go!" she whispered, "go!"

And turning about, M'Ginnis stumbled out of the place and left her
alone. For a long time she sat there, motionless and crouched above the
table, staring blindly before her, and in her eyes an agony beyond
tears, heedless of the flight of time, conscious only of a pain sharper
than flesh can know. Suddenly a key was thrust in the lock of the outer
door, footsteps sounded along the passage accompanied by a merry
whistling, and Spike appeared.