"And if this man attempts to follow me please send back a policeman.

He is intoxicated." The car stopped at the corner of the street opposite the site of the old Saint Mary's Cathedral, a street where once had been that row of small and evil cottages where French women, painted, scantily dressed in a travesty of the evening gown, called to the passer-by through the slats of old-fashioned green shutters.

That had been before Ruyler's day, but he knew the history of the neighborhood, and this man's interest in it.

He was not surprised to hear Bisbee laugh aloud as Madame Delano, who stepped off the car with astonishing agility, waddled down the now respectable street.

But she held her head majestically and did not look back.
Ruyler squared his back lest the man, glancing over, recognize him.