She took up a book and threw it down again. 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. . Wood, I forget nothing. ” “I will see that he gets it immediately on his return,” the lady promised. Her hair, once red, faded to a thin gray that she kept cut into a practical short bob.
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