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Something of all this was in Geoffrey Ravenslee's mind as he climbed the
dingy, interminable stair behind Spike, who presently halted to get his
wind and whisper:
"It ain't much further now, Geoff, only another two flights and--" He
stopped suddenly to listen, and from the landing above a sound reached
them, a sound soft but unmistakable--a woman's muffled sobbing.
Slowly, cautiously, they mounted the stair until in the dim light of a
certain landing they beheld a slim figure bowed upon its knees in an
agony of abasement before a scarred and dingy door. Even as they stared,
the slender, girlish figure sobbed again, and, with a sudden, yearning
gesture, lifted a face, pale in the half-light, and kissed that battered
door; thereafter, weeping still, she rose to her feet and turned, but
seeing Spike, stood very still all at once and with hands clasped tight
together.
"Holy Gee!" exclaimed Spike beneath his breath; then, in a hoarse
whisper: "Is that Maggie--Maggie Finlay?"
"Oh--is that you, Arthur?" she whispered back.


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