She found it extremely difficult to infuse an air of quiet correctitude into her return through the window, and when she was safely inside she waved clinched fists and executed a noiseless dance of rage. I should like to have had you forgive me. ‘Read that,’ and threw the telegram at me, so that it went into the tureen. But she was disturbed, mysteriously disturbed. She felt herself shaking again. ” She marked an hotel that seemed neither opulent nor odd in a little side street opening on the Embankment, made up her mind with an effort, and, returning by Hungerford Bridge to Waterloo, took a cab to this chosen refuge with her two pieces of luggage.
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