"They know well enough
downstairs that I am always at liberty to you. Come in."
"I am so anxious to learn," the Professor continued eagerly, "whether
there is any news--of my skeleton."
"Not yet, Professor, I am sorry to say," Quest replied. "Come in and shut
the door."
The Professor was obviously struggling with his disappointment. He did
not, however, at once close the door.
"There is a young lady here," he said, "who caught me up upon the landing.
She, too, I believe, wishes to see you. My manners suffered, I fear, from
my eagerness to hear from your own lips if there was anything fresh. I
should have allowed her to precede me."
He threw open the door and stood on one side. A young woman came a little
hesitatingly into the room. Her hair was plainly brushed back, and she
wore the severe dress of the Salvation Army. Nothing, however, could
conceal the fact that she was a remarkably sweet and attractive-looking
young person.
"Want to see me, young lady?" Quest asked.
She held out a book.
"My name is Miss Quigg," she said. "I want to ask you for a subscription
to our funds."
Quest frowned a little.
"I don't care about this house-to-house visitation," he remarked.
"It is only once a year that we come," the girl pleaded, "and we only go
to people who we know can afford to help us, and who we believe can
appreciate our work. You know so much of the darker side of New York, Mr.
Quest. Wherever you go you must find signs of our labours.
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