A Poor Wise Man
"No. She's a new one."
"Face's kind of familiar to me," said the telephone girl, reflectively. "Looks
worried, doesn't she? Two masked men! Huh! All Sam took up there last night
was a thin fellow with a limp."
The hall boy grinned.
"Then his limp didn't bother him any. Sam says y'ought to seen that place."
In the meantime, outside the door of Akers' apartment, Lily's fine courage almost
left her. Had it not been for the eyes of the elevator man, fixed on her while he
lounged in his gateway, she might have gone away, even then. But she stood
there, committed to a course of action, and rang.
Louis himself admitted her, an oddly battered Louis, in a dressing gown and
slippers; an oddly watchful Louis, too, waiting, after the manner of men of his
kind the world over, to see which way the cat would jump. He had had a bad day,
and his nerves were on edge. All day he had sat there, unable to go out, and had
wondered just when Cameron would see her and tell her about Edith Boyd. For,
just as Willy Cameron rushed him for the first time, there had been something
from between clenched teeth about marrying another girl, under the given
circumstances. Only that had not been the sort of language in which it was
"I just saw about it in the newspaper," Lily said. "How dreadful, Louis."
He straightened himself and drew a deep breath. The game was still his, if he
played it right.
"Bad enough, dear," he said, "but I gave them some trouble, too." He pushed a
chair toward her. "It was like you to come. But I don't like your seeing me all
mussed up, little girl."
He' made a move then to kiss her, but she drew back.
"Please!" she said. "Not here. And I can't sit down. I can't stay. I only came
because I wanted to tell you something and I didn't want to telephone it. Louis,
Jim Doyle knew about those bombs last night. He didn't want it to happen before
the election, but - that doesn't alter the fact, does it?"
"How do you know he knew?"
"I do know. That's all. And I have left Aunt Elinor's"