see you. I have to see you right away. I called your room from the outside, and they said———"
"I'm always glad to see you any time, King. Come on up a minute then."
"I'm afraid to go in there with you. Somebody might see me———"
She could make out his harassed, disheveled condition, misunderstood the cause of it. "You've been drinking again," she reproved forgivingly. "Never mind, come on up and I'll straighten you out."
"But I'm afraid to let them see me———"
"There's an all-night drugstore down at the lower corner there. From the back of it you can go directly into the hotel; without having to pass in front of the desk. Suppose we go in that way."
Even before they'd reached it, a surge of cold fear drenched him. Could he trust her? Should he take a chance and go up? Once he was up there, escape might be cut off. Then the reassuring thought came: she didn't know what he'd done yet, so there was no reason for her to give him away.
There was no one in sight in the drugstore, only a night clerk busied behind a partition filling a prescription. They I passed through completely unseen. A passageway to the rear of it, leading to the hotel coffee-shop, was serviced by the elevators. She brought one down and they got on. She had the moral courage of utter respectability. "Straight up, Harry; don't stop at the main floor."
"Yes, Miss Philips." She got the respect due utter respectability. Though he'd seen the man step into the car after her, he kept his eyes straight front, didn't leer around over his shoulder. He kept on living, because of that. Turner's hand was on his back pocket the whole way up.
The main floor passed with a blurred flash of black-and-white tiled floor. The desk was off side out of sight somewhere; even if it hadn't been, no one could have focused the car's occupants as it shot up past the opening.
They got out, and she made a turn, keyed a door, threw it open. She lighted up the room beyond. Then she turned and said, "Now, King, what's all this great———?"
He said, "Close the door, first. Hurry up, come inside, first."
She did. By that time he was already over at the first of the two other doors it contained, looking into a closet. Then at the next one, looking into a bath. He said, "Are you alone? You sure you're alone?"
"Come here, King," she said soothingly. "Sit down in this chair. You're all unstrung. I don't like the way you're acting. What is it?"
''Eleanor, if I told you something, could I trust you not to give me away?"
She smiled rebukingly. "Have I ever let you down?"
"But this is something different. Once I've told you, I'm wide open, I'm at your mercy."
She said with charming ruefulness. "If you think I could take advantage of you, then maybe you'd better not tell me."
"But I have to. I'm all choked up with it." He tore open his vest with both hands and a button popped off. "And I need your help, I'm cut off, surrounded!"
"Tell it, then. I think you can count on me." She had forgiven him in advance; a bad check, a mess with a girl, no matter what it was.
He sat down at last. He let his hands dangle limp over his knees. "Eleanor, I killed a girl over in a place where I was."
He saw her go down out of her depth for a minute. He saw the blue-gray tinge of shock course through her skin, mottling it, as from an immersion. She hadn't been thinking along those lines. This was finis. "Are you sure?" That was just a cover-up, to gain time while she was fighting for self-mastery. She kept her voice steady. The end of the last word shook a little, that was all. She knew he must be sure; he wouldn't have come to her if he hadn't been.
"I saw them pick her up. I heard them say she wasn't breathing any more. I was holding the knife in my hands, all red."
He was a thing apart now; one of those things you read about in the papers, but didn't have a right in the same room with you.
"I'm always glad to see you any time, King. Come on up a minute then."
"I'm afraid to go in there with you. Somebody might see me———"
She could make out his harassed, disheveled condition, misunderstood the cause of it. "You've been drinking again," she reproved forgivingly. "Never mind, come on up and I'll straighten you out."
"But I'm afraid to let them see me———"
"There's an all-night drugstore down at the lower corner there. From the back of it you can go directly into the hotel; without having to pass in front of the desk. Suppose we go in that way."
Even before they'd reached it, a surge of cold fear drenched him. Could he trust her? Should he take a chance and go up? Once he was up there, escape might be cut off. Then the reassuring thought came: she didn't know what he'd done yet, so there was no reason for her to give him away.
There was no one in sight in the drugstore, only a night clerk busied behind a partition filling a prescription. They I passed through completely unseen. A passageway to the rear of it, leading to the hotel coffee-shop, was serviced by the elevators. She brought one down and they got on. She had the moral courage of utter respectability. "Straight up, Harry; don't stop at the main floor."
"Yes, Miss Philips." She got the respect due utter respectability. Though he'd seen the man step into the car after her, he kept his eyes straight front, didn't leer around over his shoulder. He kept on living, because of that. Turner's hand was on his back pocket the whole way up.
The main floor passed with a blurred flash of black-and-white tiled floor. The desk was off side out of sight somewhere; even if it hadn't been, no one could have focused the car's occupants as it shot up past the opening.
They got out, and she made a turn, keyed a door, threw it open. She lighted up the room beyond. Then she turned and said, "Now, King, what's all this great———?"
He said, "Close the door, first. Hurry up, come inside, first."
She did. By that time he was already over at the first of the two other doors it contained, looking into a closet. Then at the next one, looking into a bath. He said, "Are you alone? You sure you're alone?"
"Come here, King," she said soothingly. "Sit down in this chair. You're all unstrung. I don't like the way you're acting. What is it?"
''Eleanor, if I told you something, could I trust you not to give me away?"
She smiled rebukingly. "Have I ever let you down?"
"But this is something different. Once I've told you, I'm wide open, I'm at your mercy."
She said with charming ruefulness. "If you think I could take advantage of you, then maybe you'd better not tell me."
"But I have to. I'm all choked up with it." He tore open his vest with both hands and a button popped off. "And I need your help, I'm cut off, surrounded!"
"Tell it, then. I think you can count on me." She had forgiven him in advance; a bad check, a mess with a girl, no matter what it was.
He sat down at last. He let his hands dangle limp over his knees. "Eleanor, I killed a girl over in a place where I was."
He saw her go down out of her depth for a minute. He saw the blue-gray tinge of shock course through her skin, mottling it, as from an immersion. She hadn't been thinking along those lines. This was finis. "Are you sure?" That was just a cover-up, to gain time while she was fighting for self-mastery. She kept her voice steady. The end of the last word shook a little, that was all. She knew he must be sure; he wouldn't have come to her if he hadn't been.
"I saw them pick her up. I heard them say she wasn't breathing any more. I was holding the knife in my hands, all red."
He was a thing apart now; one of those things you read about in the papers, but didn't have a right in the same room with you.
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