She crept to the corner and peered around it; Gianapolis had
disappeared.
The light grew brighter--brighter yet; and, with the engine running very
silently, the car came up almost beside her. She considered this unwise
on the man's part, yet welcomed his presence, for in this place not a
soul was visible, and for the first time she began to feel afraid...
A shawl, or some kind of silken wrap, was suddenly thrown over her head!
She shrieked frenziedly, but the arm of her captor was now clasped
tightly about her mouth and head. She felt herself to be suffocating.
The silken thing which enveloped her was redolent of the perfume of
roses; it was stifling her. She fought furiously, but her arms were now
seized in an irresistible grasp, and she felt herself lifted--and placed
upon a cushioned seat.
Instantly there was a forward movement of the vehicle which she had
mistaken for a taxi-cab, and she knew that she was speeding through
those unknown east-end streets--God! to what destination?
She could not cry out, for she was fighting for air--she seemed to be
encircled by a swirling cloud of purplish mist. On--and on--and on, she
was borne; she knew that she must have been drugged in some way, for
consciousness was slipping--slipping.
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