Will you please—Not now, or I must go. It’s Providence. The commissionaire stood there, tall and imperturbable. . Eating him while he was at the end of a heroin binge left her sleepy and dazed. “You remember our first meeting?” “Yes,” he answered hoarsely. He was not addicted to monologue, and the only audible comment he permitted himself at first upon a universe that was evidently anything but satisfactory to him that afternoon, was one compact and entirely unassigned “Damn!” The word must have had some gratifying quality, because he repeated it. She counted three on the way to the train and four more on the crowded car that would have gladly taken him to bed with not so much as a word. “I wish this hadn’t turned up to-day of all days. ” He stood still, looking at her. In doing this, he chanced to raise his eyes and half fancied he beheld, shaded by a pillar at the extremity of the western aisle, the horrible countenance of the thief-taker.
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