She trailed him to his apartment and a black door that read 727 in solemn gold-tone lettering. Forgetting the dark thoughts of his last brush with the girl, he dropped the dagger back in his pocket, quickened his pace, and went back into the house to look for his hostess. "Besides, lad, even an advertisement of a cough-drop is something to read. She could still feel his psychic presence all around her, and she knew he was thinking of her. Anna was not “Alcide” of the “Ambassador’s,” whose subtly demure smile and piquant glances had called him to her side from the moment of their first meeting.
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