Evening star., 1940-01-07
CHAPTER 8.

After Danny had left Claire at her
hotel and she was in her room, she
took from her compact the card
~. Y" had placed there, lighted a
match and burned it in metal ash
tray. 1t was conceivable that such
card might get her into trouble if
it were found in her purse-it might
lead to awkward questions which she
would be unable to answer.
When she had seen Noel Yorke at
Maria's, she was certain he was the
man who had shared her taxi, and
yet all the time he was there, he
gave not the slightest hint that he
was other than he pretended to be
a dilettante who dabbled with
painting.
He certainly didn't seem to the
girl to be person who would be in
the espionage service - counter
espionage, she supposed it was-and
yet she reminded herself she couldn't
judge always from appearances. Bill
Cameron, for instance, was not sus-
pected even by his associates in
Washington of being other than
what he pretended to be-a sort of
glorified messenger boy. Yet she
knew how important he was in the
Government service-how much he
was relied upon.
These thoughts kept her awake
until nearly daylight, and it was
nearly noon before she awakened.
She phoned the desk, but there were
no messages for her and there had
been no telephone calls During the
afternoon, she got Sanford on the
wire, but aside from learning that
he was making every effort to find
some trace of Cameron, nothing had
happened. He had no news to give
her. He hadn't heard from Bornet.
Air Raid Alarm.
Danny had no news about Cam
eron either, and after a lonely din
ner in her room, she decided to call
at the Surete Offices herself. Any
thing was better than this eternal
waiting. She might be lucky enough
to find Bornet in his Office and learn
something from him.
She glanced about as she stepped
from the hotel doorway into the cab
at the curb, half expecting ~. Y"
to pop out of the shadows again and
join her, but no one was there and
she was alone in the cab.
The ancient vehicle, creaking in
every joint, moved slowly along in
the darkness and Claire was deep
in her own thoughts when the cab
stopped so suddenly she was thrown
forward from her seat The driver
had the door open in a moment, and
was shouting at her.
"Air raid. mademoiselle! Air raid!
The alarm is sounding! Come
quickly!"
Claire heard the unearthly wall
of the sirens then, and tumbled out
onto the sidewalk. The sound, she
knew, was coming from clusters of
loud-speaker horns placed at every
street intersection all over Paris.
The driver grasped her hand and
started to run, the girl stumbling
after him.
Rush to Subway Entrance.
A dim blue light CLEANED ahead,
and the driver plunged down the
steps of subway station, Claire fol-
lowing as fast as she could in her
high-heeled slippers.
The white tiles of the Metro sta
ton walls cleaned eerily in the soft
blue light and as they ran down
the platform the girl was aware of
hundreds of others who had pre-
ceded them to this point of refuge.
They were huddled at the far end
of the station, as far away as pos
sible from the steps which led to
the street, and Claire thought it
might have been much more SEN
sible if they were separated instead
of in one compact mass. If a fall
ing bomb should happen to hit
above them and pierce the ground
and the concrete over their heads
every one probably would be killed
instantly.
She heard a voice shouting and
in the dim light made out gen.
darme, his bright steel helmet glis-
tening, trying to spread out the mill
ing crowd.
"Monsieursl Madames!" HI
shouted. please do not gather II