As it is, I'm not sorry for the blunder. A nurse came hurrying up. Mr. "I must tell you," she was saying. Only he hated the words he uttered, hated the blunt honesty which forced them from his lips. She cried as he watched, frozen to the ground. What hotel should she go to? If she told a cabman to drive to an hotel, any hotel, what would he do—or say? He might drive to something dreadfully expensive, and not at all the quiet sort of thing she required. " "How did you escape?" asked Sheppard, who, as he shook off his slumber, began to recall the events of the previous night. “Much better. There was a round table covered, not with the usual “tapestry” cover, but with a plain green cloth that went passably with the wall-paper.
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