Later in the afternoon he had occasion to visit the institution to
which he had recently been appointed as medical officer, and in
contemplation of the squalor through which his steps led him he sought
forgetfulness of the Scorpion problem--and of the dark eyes of Mlle.
Dorian. He was not entirely successful, and returning by a different
route he lost himself in memories which were sweetly mournful.
A taxicab passed him, moving slowly very close to the pavement. He
scarcely noted it until it had proceeded some distance ahead of him.
Then its slow progress so near to the pavement at last attracted his
attention, and he stared vacantly towards the closed vehicle.
Mlle. Dorian was leaning out of the window and looking back at him!
Stuart's heart leapt high. For an instant he paused, then began to
walk rapidly after the retreating vehicle. Perceiving that she had
attracted his attention, the girl extended a white-gloved hand from
the window and dropped a note upon the edge of the pavement.
Immediately she withdrew into the vehicle--which moved away at
accelerated speed, swung around the next corner and was gone.
Stuart ran forward and picked up the note. Without pausing to read it,
he pressed on to the corner. The cab was already two hundred yards
away, and he recognized pursuit to be out of the question. The streets
were almost deserted at the moment, and no one apparently had
witnessed the episode. He unfolded the sheet of plain note-paper,
faintly perfumed with jasmine, and read the following, written in an
uneven feminine hand:
"Close your shutters at night.
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