"What do you want? What are you doing out there on the fire escape?" she
instantly demanded to know.

"My word, I am hungry! I was looking out of the window across the way
and saw you preparing your dinner. A bit of bread and a glass of milk.
Would you mind, I wonder?"

"Why didn't you come to the door then? What window?" Kitty was resolute;
once she embarked upon an enterprise.

"That one."

"Where is Mr. Gregory?" Kitty recalled that odd letter.

"Gregory? I should very much like to know. I have come many miles to
see him. He sent me a duplicate key. There was not even a crust in the
cupboard."

Gregory away? That letter! Something had happened to that poor, kindly
old man. "Why did you not seek some restaurant? Or have you no money?"

"I have plenty. I was afraid that I might not be able conveniently to
return. I am a stranger. My actions might be viewed with suspicion."

"Indeed! Describe Mr. Gregory."

Not of the clinging kind, evidently, he thought. A raving beauty--Diana
domesticated!

"It is four years since I saw him. He was then gray, dapper, and erect.
A mole on his chin, which he rubs when he talks. He is a valet in one
of the fashionable hotels. He is--or was--the only true friend I have in
New York."