"Take this young lady," he ordered, "wherever she wishes. Good night!"
The girl drove off. Quest watched the car disappear around the corner.
Then he turned slowly back and made preparations for his adventure....
"Number 700, New York," he muttered, half an hour later, as he left his
house. "Beyond Fourteenth Street--a tough neighbourhood."
He hesitated for a moment, feeling the articles in his overcoat pocket--a
revolver in one, a small piece of hard substance in the other. Then he
stepped into his car, which had just returned.
"Where did you leave the young lady?" he asked the chauffeur.
"In Broadway, sir. She left me and boarded a cross-town car."
Quest nodded approvingly.
"No finesse," he sighed.
5.
Sanford Quest was naturally a person unaffected by presentiments or
nervous fears of any sort, yet, having advanced a couple of yards along
the hallway of the house which he had just entered without difficulty, he
came to a standstill, oppressed with the sense of impending danger. With
his electric torch he carefully surveyed the dilapidated staircase in
front of him, the walls from which the paper hung down in
depressing-looking strips. The house was, to all appearances, uninhabited.
The door had yielded easily to his master-key. Yet this was the house
connected with Number 700, New York, the house to which Lenora had come.
Furthermore, from the street outside he had seen a light upon the first
floor, instantly extinguished as he had climbed the steps.
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