Win, pale and absent-minded (but that might be the heat), was giving the finishing touches to a cloaked group of figurines when a letter was brought to her by a messenger boy.  It was not yet time for Peter Rolls’s doors to open to the world, but the girl had to finish her task before reading the note.  A glance at the envelope showed Sadie’s handwriting, and as Sadie ought at that moment to have been making the toilets of dolls upstairs, Win realized that something unexpected must have happened.

Perhaps Sadie was ill and wanted her to explain to the management.  She must make short shrift with the figurines and be ready to help Sadie before strenuous life began.

Five minutes later five headless ladies in perfectly draped wraps were showing off their finery to the best advantage, and their tiring maid was standing as still as they, an open letter in her hand.

“What’s the matter?” asked a pretty, snub-nosed girl who laughed oftener than Win in these days.  “You look as if you’d lost your last friend.”

“I’m afraid—­I have,” Winifred replied in a strange, withdrawn voice which made Daisy Thompson’s eyes widen.

“Say!  I’m real sorry!  I hope it ain’t your beau.”

Win did not answer, because she did not hear.  Sadie!  Sadie!  The dear little old sardine!

“Good-bye, deerie,” she read again.  “I coodn’t of said this to yure fase.  I only noo for shure yesterdy.  Its cunsumsion and they won’t have me back for fere of my giving it to others.  I gess thats right tho its hard luck on me.  It aint that I care much about living.  I dont, becawse theres sum one I love who loves another girl.  Shes a lot better than me and werthy of him so thats all right too but it herts and Id be kind of glad to go out.  Dont you be afrade of me doing anything silly in the tabloyde line tho.  I wont.  Im no coward.  But I got to leeve this house for the same reeson as the Hands.  I mite give my truble to sum one else.  Its a good thing we found out in time.  Ive hurd of a noo plase where they take consumps for nuthing, and Ive got to steer for it.  Its in the country but I wont tell you where deerie or you mite try to see me and I dont think I cood stand it the way I feel now.  But I love you just as much.  Good-by.  Yure affecshunate Sadie.”

Win was overwhelmed.  Lately she had seen little of her friend.  Neither girl had much time, and the weather had drunk all their energy.  She ought to have guessed from Sadie’s thinness that she was ill.  She ought—­oh, she ought to have done a dozen things that she had not done!  Now it was too late.

But no, it mustn’t be too late!  She would find out where Sadie was.  It ought to be easy, for the verdict which had sent the girl away from the Hands must have been that of a young doctor who attended the employees.  There were certain hours when he came to the hospital room which Win had seen on her first day at Peter Rolls’s.  One of these hours was just before the opening of the shop.  Perhaps he hadn’t yet got away.