Bought the freedom of a sing-song girl; and all the while you knew you'd have to tote the girl back. She went past three keenly observant and ostentatiously preoccupied waiters down the thickcarpeted staircase and out of the Hotel Rococo, that remarkable laboratory of relationships, past a tall porter in blue and crimson, into a cool, clear night. "Mother!" cried the son, "help!" "What is this?" shrieked Lady Trafford, raising herself on the couch, and extending her hands towards him. She sensed he might try and wane on her doorstep. But this is like—like walking round a house that looks square and complete and finding an unexpected long wing running out behind. Wood, whose admiration for masculine beauty was by no means abated, glanced at the well-proportioned figure of the young man, and made him a very civil salutation. Upon my word—you are Miss Pellissier, aren’t you?” “I certainly am,” she admitted.
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