“Fred,” he said, “do you remember taking me to dinner at the ‘Ambassador’s,’ one evening last September, to meet a girl who was singing there? Hamilton and Drummond and his lot were with us. If I could but——” To escape from her thoughts she began to undress, humming a light tune to herself, though her eyes were hot with unshed tears, and the sobs kept rising in her throat. "Mr. Of course, it was ridiculous, this inclination to assist the fugitive, based as it was upon an intangible university idea. These little squares of coloured paper interested her mightily—hotel labels. She waited a few minutes, then greeted the burly doorman who stood as the building’s lone sentry.
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