Chapter 12

“That’s a good name,” he said gaily, “—Dirck or Dagger—a perfectly good name for the Forty Club. Some wear their hearts on their sleeves; some carry their names in their garters. . . . Maddaleen Dirck! That’s a first-rate name.” “And yours?” “Oh, nothing suggestive or subtle. My name is John Lanier.” “John Lanier,” she repeated aloud to herself. “You see,” he said, “what goes in the Underworld doesn’t go with us in the Forty Club. We _look_ all right; we seem all right; we know how to behave, and we do it. None of …