eyes were very imploring, beguiling, too. The timid smile that
wreathed the tiny mouth was marvelously winning. The neatly
gloved little hands were held outstretched, clasped in
supplication. "Surely, sir, you see now quite plainly why it
must never be known by any one in all the wide, wide world that I
have ever been brought to this perfectly dreadful place--though
you have been quite nice!" Her voice dropped to a note of musical
prayerfulness. The words were spoken very softly and very
slowly, with intonations difficult for a man to deny. "Please
let me go home." She plucked a minute handkerchief from her
handbag, put it to her eyes, and began to sob quietly.

The burly Inspector of Police was moved to quick sympathy.
Really, when all was said and done, it was a shame that one like
her should by some freak of fate have become involved in the
sordid, vicious things that his profession made it obligatory on
him to investigate. There was a considerable hint of the paternal
in his air as he made an attempt to offer consolation to the
afflicted damsel.

"That's all right, little lady," he exclaimed cheerfully. "Now,
don't you be worried--not a little bit. Take it from me, Miss
West.... Just go ahead, and tell me all you know about this
Turner woman. Did you see her yesterday?"

The girl's sobs ceased. After a final dab with the minute
handkerchief, she leaned forward a little toward the Inspector,
and proceeded to put a question to him with great eagerness.

"Will you let me go home as soon as I've told you the teensy