When Quin finished he looked at her with frank admiration.
"You got nerve, all right," he said; then he added gently: "Don't you
worry about getting upstairs; it won't hurt you much now."
"You stay and help," said Madam peremptorily.
"Sure," said Quin.
It was not until she was in her own bed, and word had come that Dr.
Rawlins was on his way, that she would let Quin go, and even then she
called him back.
"You! Soldier! Come here," was the faint edict from the canopied bed. She
was getting very weak from the pain, and her words came in gasps. "Do you
know where--the--Aristo Apartments are?"
"No, but I can find out," said Quin.
"I want you--to--go for my son--Mr. Randolph Bartlett. If he's not at
home--you find him. I'll make it--worth your while."
"I'll find him," Quin said, with a reassuring pat on her wrinkled hand.
As he went into the hall, Eleanor slipped out of the adjoining room and
followed him silently down the stairs. She did not speak until they were
at the front door, and even then took the precaution of stepping outside.
"I just wanted to come down and say good-by," she said.
"But you surely won't be going now?" said Quin hopefully.
Pages:
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96