When he was out of the room, Ajax came and rubbed about his mistress as though claiming credit for ousting Mr.Fopling, of whom he was certain Bess thought as badly as did he.
Bess was sitting where she commanded a prospect of the street.

Who should come swinging up the way but Richard?
It was the habit of that rising journalist to make one or two daily excursions past the Harley house.

Richard was none of your moon-mad ones who would strum a midnight lute beneath a fair maid's window.

Still, he liked to walk by the Harley house; the temporary nearness of Dorothy did his soul good.

Besides, he now and then caught a glimpse of her through the window.
Richard was on the Marklin side of the street, and as he was for going by--back to Bess and eyes on the Harley house--Bess rapped on the pane and beckoned him.
Richard lifted his hat and obeyed directly.