He turned
up Geary Street and followed it until he came to
Union Square. There he looked at his watch, then
entered the square. He loitered about the paths for
some time, evidently waiting for some one. Presently
he was joined by a fashionably dressed and beauti-
ful young woman and the two walked away up
Stockton Street, I following. I now felt the necessity
of extreme caution, for although the girl was a
stranger it seemed to me that she would recognize
me at a glance. They made several turns from one
street to another and finally, after both had taken
a hasty look all about--which I narrowly evaded by
stepping into a doorway--they entered a house of
which I do not care to state the location. Its location
was better than its character.
I protest that my action in playing the spy upon
these two strangers was without assignable motive.
It was one of which I might or might not be
ashamed, according to my estimate of the character
of the person finding it out. As an essential part of
a narrative educed by your question it is related here
without hesitancy or shame.
A week later John took me to the house of his
prospective father-in-law, and in Miss Margovan, as
you have already surmised, but to my profound as-
tonishment, I recognized the heroine of that discred-
itable adventure. A gloriously beautiful heroine of
a discreditable adventure I must in justice admit
that she was; but that fact has only this importance:
her beauty was such a surprise to me that it cast a
doubt upon her identity with the young woman I
had seen before; how could the marvellous fascina-
tion of her face have failed to strike me at that
time? But no--there was no possibility of error; the
difference was due to costume, light and general
surroundings.
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