the white moll-第41章
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and discontent。 She turned her head away。 It was not a pleasant
face； it struck her as being both morbid and cruel to a degree。
Suppose she refused to go？
〃What did you mean by 'after to…night'？〃 she asked again。
〃You'll see；〃 he answered。 〃Pierre'll tell you。 You're in luck；
that's all。 The whole thing that has kept you under cover has bust
wide open your way； and you win。 And Pierre's going through for a
clean…up。 To…morrow you can swell around in a limousine again。 And
maybe you'll come around and take me for a drive； if I dress up； and
promise to hide in a corner of the back seat so's they won't see your
handsome friend！〃
The creature flung a bitter smile at her； and lurched on。
He had told her what she wanted to know … more than she had hoped
for。 The mystery that surrounded the character of Gypsy Nan； the
evidence of the crime at which the woman who had originated that
role had hinted on the night she died； and which must necessarily
involve Danglar； was hers； Rhoda Gray's； now for the taking。 As
well go and give herself up to the police as the White Moll and
have done with it all； as to refuse to seize the opportunity which
fate； evidently in a kindlier mood toward her now； was offering
her at this instant。 It promised her the hold upon Danglar that
she needed to force an avowal of her own innocence； the very hold
that she had but a few minutes before been hoping she could obtain
through the Adventurer。
There was no longer any question as to whether she would go or not。
Her hand groped down under the shabby black shawl into the wide；
voluminous pocket of her greasy skirt。 Yes； her revolver was there。
She knew it was there； but the touch of her fingers upon it seemed
to bring a sense of reassurance。 She was perhaps staking her all
in accompanying this cripple here to…night … she did not need to be
told that … but there was a way of escape at the last if she were
cornered and caught。 Her fingers played with the weapon。 If the
worst came to the worst she would never be at Danglar's mercy while
she possessed that revolver and； if the need came； turned it upon
herself。
They walked on rapidly； the lurching figure beside her covering the
ground at an astounding rate of speed。 The man made no effort to
talk。 She was glad of it。 She need not be so anxiously on her
guard as would be the case if a conversation were carried on； and
she； who knew so much and yet so pitifully little； must weigh her
every word； and feel her way with every sentence。 And besides； too；
it gave her time to think。 Where were they going？ What sort of a
place was it； this headquarters of the gang？ For it must be the
headquarters； since it was from there the code messages would
naturally emanate； and this deformed creature； from what he had
said； was the 〃secretary〃 of the nefarious clique that was ruled
by his brother。 And was luck really with her at last？ Suppose she
had been but a few minutes later in reaching Gypsy Nan's house； and
had found； instead of this man here； only the note instructing her
to go and meet Danglar！ What would she have done？ What explanation
could she have made for her nonappearance？ Her hands would have
been tied。 She would have been helpless。 She could not have
answered the summons； for she could have had no idea where this
gang…lair was； and the note certainly would not contain such details
as street and number； which she was obviously supposed to know。 She
smiled a little grimly to herself。 Yes； it seemed as though fortune
were beginning to smile upon her again … fortune； at least； had
supplied her with a guide。
The twisted figure walked on the inside of the sidewalk； and
curiously seemed to seek as much as possible the protecting shadows
of the buildings； and invariably shrank back out of the way of the
passers…by they met。 She watched him narrowly as they went along。
What was he afraid of？ Recognition？ It puzzled her for a time；
and then she understood： It was not fear of recognition； the sullen；
almost belligerent stare with which he met the eyes of those with
whom he came into close contact belied that。 The man was morbidly；
abnormally sensitive of his deformity。
They turned at last into one of the East Side cross streets； and
her guide halted finally on a corner in front of a little shop that
was closed and dark。 She stared curiously as the man unlocked the
door。 Perhaps； after all； she had been woefully mistaken。 It did
not look at all the kind of place where crimes that ran the gamut
of the decalogue were hatched； at all the sort of place that was
the council chamber of perhaps the most cunning； certainly the most
cold…blooded and unscrupulous； band of crooks that New York had
ever harbored。 And yet … why not？ Wasn't there the essence of
cunning in that very fact？ Who would suspect anything of the sort
from a ramshackle； two…story little house like this； whose front
was a woe…begone little store； the proceeds of which might just
barely keep the body and soul of its proprietor together？
The man fumbled with the lock。 There was not a single light showing
from the place； but in the dwindling rays of a distant street lamp
she could see the meager window display through the filthy； unwashed
panes。 It was evidently a cheap and tawdry notion store； well
suited to its locality。 There were toys of the cheapest variety；
stationery of the same grade； cheap pipes； cigarettes； tobacco；
candy … a package of needles。
〃Go on in！〃 grunted the man； as he pushed the door … which seemed
to shriek out unduly on its hinges … wide open。 〃If anybody sees
the door open； they'll be around wanting to buy a paper of pins
… curse 'em！ … and I ain't open to…night。〃 He snarled as he shut
and locked the door。 〃Pierre says you're grouching about your
garret。 How about me； and this job？ You get out of yours to…night
for keeps。 What about me？ I can't do anything but act as a damned
blind for the rest of you with this fool store。 just because I was
born a freak that every gutter…snipe on the street yells at！〃
Rhoda Gray did not answer。
〃Well； go on！〃 snapped the man。 〃What are you standing there for？
One would think you'd never been here before！〃
Go on！ Where？ She had not the faintest idea。 It was quite dark
inside here in the shop。 She could barely make out the outline of
the other's figure。
〃You're in a sweet temper to…night； aren't you？〃 she said tartly。
〃Go on； yourself！ I'm waiting for you to get through your speech。〃
He moved brusquely past her； with an angry grunt。 Rhoda Gray
followed him。 They passed along a short； narrow space； evidently
between a low counter and a shelved wall； and then the man opened
a door； and； shutting it again behind them； moved forward once more。
She could scarcely see him at all now； it was more the sound of his
footsteps than anything else that guided her。 And then suddenly
another door was opened； and a soft； yellow light streamed out
through the doorway； and she found that she was standing in an
intervening room between the shop and the room ahead of her。 She
felt her pulse quicken； and it seemed as though her heart began to
thump almost audibly。 Danglar ！ She could see Danglar seated at
a table in there。 She clenched her hands under her shawl。 She
would need all her wits now。 She prayed that there was not too
much light in that room yonder。
XV。 IN THE COUNCIL CHAMBER
The man with the withered hand had passed through into the other
room。 She heard them talking together； as she followed。 She
forced herself to walk with as nearly a leisurely defiant air as
she could。 The last time she had been with Danglar … as Gypsy Nan
… she had； in self…protection； forbidding intimacy； played up what
he called her 〃grouch〃 at his neglect of her。
She paused in the doorway。 Halfway across the room； at the table；
Danglar's gaunt； swarthy face showed under the rays of a shaded
oil lamp。 Behind her spectacles； she met his small； black ferret
eyes steadily。
〃Hello； Bertha！〃 he called out cheerily。 〃How's the old girl
to…night？〃 He rose from his seat to come toward her。 〃And how's
the cold？〃
Rhoda Gray
