Telephone me when you have it."
Locke seized his hat, and Hadwell redoubled his efforts to fathom the
toxic secret.
At Brent Rock, in the mean time, everything was in confusion, Eva was
almost distracted, and, to add to her discomfort, Paul took occasion to
call.
In the past few days her distrust of him, for she could call it by no
other name, had grown, and the furtive glances which he exchanged with
Zita, little trouble-maker, were not reassuring. But when Eva's maid,
motioning her aside, told her that she had been a witness to the
departure of Zita and Flint, Eva's suspicions from a vague misgiving
became a stern reality. She longed for Locke's return and protection
from the very man to whom she was engaged.
As Locke left the chemist's he noticed a light runabout across the
street, half hidden in the shadows. But he failed to notice the evil
face of De Luxe Dora peering at him from beneath the rim of a
well-pulled-down hat.
"Huh!" she muttered. "We'll get his number and here's where I go after
it."
Locke hailed a passing taxicab, gave a hurried direction to the
chauffeur, and jumped in. The taxi snorted, cut out open, and jumped
forward as the driver clumsily shifted the worn gears.
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