“Never,” he answered, and she wrote it down.

“Do you play tennis with your right hand or your left hand?”

“Oh, see here,” he protested, “what’s the use of——­”

“No, no,” she insisted, “you must tell me.  Please, the right hand or the left?”

“I use both hands,” he answered, and she wrote it down.

“Now,” she continued, “you have a chest of drawers in your room with two brass dogs fighting about the lock plates?”

Kittredge stared at her.  “How the devil did you know that?”

“Never mind.  You usually keep the right-hand upper drawer locked, don’t you?”

“That’s true.”

“Do you remember going to this drawer any time lately and finding it unlocked?”

He thought a moment.  “No, I don’t.”

Alice hesitated, and then, with a flush of embarrassment, she went on bravely:  “Now, Lloyd, I come to the hardest part.  You must help me and—­and not think that I am hurt or—­or jealous.”

“Well?”

“It’s about the lady who—­who called for you.  This is all her fault, so—­so naturally she wants to help you.”

“How do you know she does?” he asked quickly.

“Because I have seen her.”

“What?”

“Yes, and, Lloyd, she is sorry for the harm she has done and——­”

“You have seen her?” he cried, half dazed.  “How?  Where?”

Then, in as few words as possible, Alice told of her talk with the lady at the church.  “And I have this message for you from her and—­and this.”  She handed him the note and the folded bank notes.

Lloyd’s face clouded.  “She sent me money?” he said in a changed voice, and his lips grew white.

“Read the note,” she begged, and he did so, frowning.

“No, no,” he declared, “it’s quite impossible.  I cannot take it,” and he handed the money back.  “You wouldn’t have me take it?”

He looked at her gravely, and she thrilled with pride in him.

“But the lawyer?” she protested weakly.  “And your safety?”

“Would you want me to owe my safety to her?”

“Oh, no,” she murmured.

“Besides, they have given me a lawyer.  I dare say he is a good one, Mr. Full-of-Water.”  He tried to speak lightly.

“Then—­then what shall I do with these?” She looked at the bank notes in perplexity.

“Return them.”

“Ah, yes,” she agreed, snatching at a new idea.  “I will return them, I will say that you thank her, that we thank her, Lloyd, but we cannot accept the money.  Is that right?”

“Exactly.”

“I will go to her apartment in the morning.  Let me see, it’s on the Avenue—­Where did I put her address?” and she went through the form of searching in her pocketbook.

“The Avenue Kleber,” he supplied, unsuspecting.

“Of course, the Avenue Kleber.  Where is that card?  I’ve forgotten the number, too.  Do you remember it, dear?”