Come around after the performance to my dressing room." "Miss Larue, your taxi's waiting," announced Floretta.
"Thanks.

Are you going now, Mrs.Dunlap?
Yes?
Then ride down in the elevator with me." They parted at the foot of the elevator and Constance walked through the arcade of the office building in which the beauty parlor occupied the top floor.

She stopped at a florist's stand to admire the flowers, but more for an excuse to look back at Stella.
As Stella stepped into a taxicab, showing a generous wealth of silken hosiery beneath the tango gown, Constance was aware that the driver of another cab across the street was also interested.

She noticed that he turned and spoke to his fare through the open window.
The cab swung around to follow the other and Constance caught a fleeting glimpse of a familiar face.
"Drummond," she exclaimed almost aloud.
What did it mean?
Why had the detective been employed to follow Stella?
Instinctively she concluded that he must be engaged by Mrs.Warrington.
"I must accept Stella's invitation," she said to herself excitedly.

"At least, she should be put on her guard." That evening, as she was looking over the newspapers, her eye caught the item in the Wall Street edition: RUBBER SYNDICATE DISSENSION Break in Stock Follows Effort of Strong Minority to Oust Warrington from Presidency Then followed a brief account of the struggle of a powerful group of directors to force Warrington, Braden, and the rest out, with a hint at the scandal of which every one now was talking.
"I never yet knew a man who went in for that sort of thing that lasted long in business," she observed.