The danger that she had feared had passed for the present at least.
Glancing toward the entrance a moment before she had been terrified to
see entering the black-mustached man who had accosted her a few moments
before. Her one thought now had been that he had followed her here, and
in a panic she was wondering how she should make explanations if he came
up to their table and spoke. To her great relief he gave no intimation
of having seen her, but settled himself into a chair near the door where
he was half hidden from her by a great palm. Furtively she watched him,
trying to divine his intention in having followed her there. Respectable
enough though he was in appearance and garb, he did not seem in the
least like the sort of man likely to be found at tea-time in an
exclusive hotel. As she studied him she soon saw that his attention
seemed to be riveted on some one sitting at the other side of the room.
Wonderingly she let her eyes follow his, and once more it was with
difficulty that she suppressed an excited gasp.
There, across the room, calmly sipping some coffee, was the handsome
young man from the next apartment--the man whom she had felt sure, or at
least almost sure, was a murderer, about whom she had been wondering all
day long, picturing him as a hunted criminal fleeing from the law.
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