It must have been Drummond.
Every move at the Junta was being watched.
At the boarding house all night she waited.

She must see Santos.

Plan after plan whirled through her brain as the hours dragged.
It was not until almost morning that, seeing a light, he tapped cautiously at her door.
"You were not at the Junta to-night," he remarked.
There was something of jealousy in the tone.
"No.

There is something I wanted to say to you where we should not be interrupted," she answered as he sat down.
A fold of her filmy house dress fluttered near him.

Involuntarily he moved closer.