She gained her room, and slammed her door and locked it as though she feared violence and pursuit. She had animated dark blue-gray eyes under her fine eyebrows, and dark brown hair that rolled back simply and effectively from her broad low forehead. “It is true,” he said, “that I was dining last night at a restaurant in the Boulevard des Italiennes, and it is true that my companion was a young lady whose name is Pellissier. “I made two fruit pies and now I have no one to eat them. You will do as I say, or—’ ‘Hoy!’ called Trodger from down the hall.
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