" "That, alone, ought to have prevented you from acting as you did, Jack," returned Thames, gravely. His physical body was predictably paralyzed with shyness and fear of rejection, barely soothed with a series 51 of blatantly direct requests and compliments. “Come, we must go home and have some luncheon. D. ‘Still, the comtesse has them well in hand. In this room was my ruin begun: in this room it should be ended. 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.
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