Vicky Van by Carolyn Wells — Read

I stood staring at the closed door. What did it mean? Why was Vicky in / there and why wouldn't she let me come in?

Then, as I collected my wits, I laughed at myself. I knew why she was / there -- to get her mail. Doubtless there were important letters that / she must have, and she had dared discovery to come at dead of night to / get them. The patrolman was not in sight. She had looked out for this, / of course. It was the merest chance that I had seen her, otherwise she / would have escaped all observation. At three in the morning there are / almost no people abroad in the quieter streets of the city, and Vicky / had timed her visit well. Of course, she had her own keys, and I felt / sure she had stealthily entered at the basement door, and waited her / time to secure the letters from the mail-box.