eBooks Base 2000

Enright?"
The rotund lawyer, his feet elevated on the window-sill, a cigar between
his lips, shook his head in emphatic dissent.
"Not lately; there was a Tim Donovan who had a pull in the subway
excavation--he was a Tammany man--but he died, and was never married.
There may have been others, of course, but I had tab on most of them.
Did she mention his name, Beaton?"
"No; anyhow, I don't remember."
"What's the girl look like?"
"Rather slender, with brown hair, sorter coppery in the sun, and grey
eyes that grow dark when she's interested. About twenty-three or four, I
should say. She's a good-looker, all right; and not a bit stuck up."
"Did you get her full name?"
"Sure; it's on the register--Stella Donovan."
Enright lowered his feet to the floor, a puzzled look un his face, his
teeth clinched on his cigar.
"Hold on a bit till I think." he muttered. "That sounds mighty
familiar--Stella Donovan! My God, I've heard that name before somewhere;
ah, I have it--she's on the New York _Star_. I've seen her name signed
to articles in the Sunday edition.


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