“Have you ever had any trouble?” Garrick asked as we sipped at the refreshments.

“Very little,” replied Miss Lottie, then as if the very manner of our introduction had stamped us all as “good fellows” to whom she could afford to be a little confidential in capturing our patronage, she added nonchalantly, “We had a sort of wild time a couple of nights ago.”

“How was that?” asked Garrick in a voice of studied politeness that carefully concealed the aching curiosity he had for her to talk.

“Well,” she answered slowly, “several ladies and gentlemen were here, playing a little high.  They—­well, they had a little too much to drink, I guess.  There was one girl, who was the worst of all.  She was pretty far gone.  Why, we had to put her out—­carry her out to the car that she had come in with her friend.  You know we can’t stand for any rough stuff like that—­no sir.  This house is perfectly respectable and proper and our patrons understand it.”

The story, or rather, the version of it, seemed to interest Garrick, as I knew it would.

“Who was the girl?” he asked casually.  “Did you know her?  Was she one of your regular patrons?”

“Knew her only by sight,” returned Miss Lottie hastily, now a little vexed, I imagined, at Guy’s persistence, “like lots of people who are introduced here—­and come again several times.”

The woman was evidently sorry that she had mentioned the incident, and was trying to turn the conversation to the advantages of her establishment, not the least of which were her facilities for private games in little rooms in various parts of the house.  It seemed all very risque to me, although I tried to appear to think it quite the usual thing, though I was careful to say that hers was the finest of such places I had ever seen.  Still, the memory of Garrick’s questioning seemed to linger.  She had not expected, I knew, that we would take any further interest in her story than to accept it as proof of how careful she was of her clientele.

Garrick was quick to take the cue.  He did not arouse any further suspicion by pursuing the subject.  Apparently he was convinced that it had been Rena Taylor of whom Miss Lottie spoke.  What really happened we knew no more now than before.  Perhaps Miss Lottie herself knew—­or she might not know.  Garrick quite evidently was willing to let future developments in the case show what had really happened.  There was nothing to be gained by forcing things at this stage of the game, either in the gambling den around the corner or here.

We chatted along for several minutes longer on inconsequential subjects, treating as important those trivialities which Bohemia considers important and scoffing at the really good and true things of life that the demi-monde despises.  It was all banality now, for we had touched upon the real question in our minds and had bounded as lightly off it as a toy balloon bounds off an opposing surface.