t on the marble with the air of being at home--all
contributed to an excitement, intense yet benumbing. She could not think.
She didn't want to think--only to feel, to enjoy, to wring the utmost
flavour of enchantment from these new surroundings; and her face wore the
expression of one in a dream. Presently she saw Ditmar returning followed
by a boy in a blue uniform.

"All right," he said. At the end of the corridor was an elevator in which
they were shot to one of the upper floors; and the boy, inserting a key
in a heavy mahogany door, revealed a sitting-room. Between its windows
was a table covered with a long, white cloth reaching to the floor, on
which, amidst the silverware and glass, was set a tall vase filled with
dusky roses. Janet, drawing in a deep breath of their fragrance, glanced
around the room. The hangings, the wall-paper, the carpet, the velvet
upholstery of the mahogany chairs, of the wide lounge in the corner were
of a deep and restful green; the marble mantelpiece, with its English
coal grate, was copied--had she known it--from a mansion of the Georgian
period. The hands of a delicate Georgian clock pointed to one. And in the
large mirror behind the clock she beheld an image she supposed, dreamily,
to be herself. The bell boy was taking off her coat, which he hung, with
Ditmar's, on a rack in a corner.

"Shall I light the fire, sir?" he asked.

"Sure," said Ditmar. "And tell them to hurry up with lunch."

The boy withdrew, closing the door silently behind him.

"We're going to have lunch here!" Janet exclaimed.

"Why not? I thought it would be nicer than a public dining-room, and when
I got up this morning and saw what the weather was I telephoned." He
placed two chairs before the fire, which had begun to blaze. "Isn't it
cosy?" he said, taking her hands and pulling her toward him. His own
hands trembled, the tips of his fingers were cold.

"You are cold!" she said.

"Not now--not now," he replied. The queer vibrations were in his voice
that she had heard before. "Sweetheart! This is the best yet, isn't it?
And after that trip in the storm!"

"It's beautiful!" she murmured, gently drawing away from him and looking
around her once more. "I never was in a room like this."

"Well, you'll be in plenty more of them," he exulted. "Sit down beside
the fire, and get warm yourself."

She obeyed, and he took the chair at her side, his eyes on her face. As
usual, she was beyond him; and despite her