He remembered his address now, and he gave it as he plunged into the coupe.
He trembled with his evil passion, and glared out of the windows at the passers as he drove home; he only saw Conrad's mild, grieving, wondering eyes, and the blood slowly trickling from the wound in his temple.
Conrad went to the neat-set bowl in Fulkerson's comfortable room and washed the blood away, and kept bathing the wound with the cold water till it stopped bleeding.

The cut was not deep, and he thought he would not put anything on it.

After a while he locked up the office and started out, he hardly knew where.

But he walked on, in the direction he had taken, till he found himself in Union Square, on the pavement in front of Brentano's.

It seemed to him that he heard some one calling gently to him, "Mr.Dryfoos!" V.
Conrad looked confusedly around, and the same voice said again, "Mr.
Dryfoos!" and he saw that it was a lady speaking to him from a coupe beside the curbing, and then he saw that it was Miss Vance.
She smiled when, he gave signs of having discovered her, and came up to the door of her carriage.