“She has been to my flat before. ‘My name’s NOT More, Mr. Montague Hill. “I had a dream in the night,” she said. It was a fetching gown that stretched tightly in a cream colored swath over her breasts and expanded to a full skirt with a petticoat. ” He came towards her with that in his face which filled her with blind terror. 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. CHAPTER III.
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