He was aware, however, that he was
being very closely observed, not from the window where he had seen the
face, but by a female and a rather pretty-looking young Italian woman,
and as our hero passed she smiled upon him very sweetly--and she could
smile sweetly--and her glittering black eyes were illuminated with a
brilliance that was charming.
Our hero stopped short, stepped toward the stoop on which the girl was
sitting, and asked:
"Do you speak English?"
"Yes," came the answer, and again the maiden smiled a bewildering smile.
"Do you live in these houses?"
"Yes."
"Do you know a young lady named Fennetti?"
"That is my name," and the girl smiled even more sweetly than before.
The detective did not smile, however, but the regret shot through his
mind: "Why in thunder did I chance to pitch upon that name?"
"I am looking for a Miss Fennetti, a drawing teacher."
"I am a drawing teacher," came the startling answer.
The detective for a moment was knocked endways, but he was a young
officer of wonderful resource and he said:
"I am glad to meet you.
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