He classified her as he seated himself. 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. ’ *** Martha sniffed dolefully, scrubbing at her reddened eyes with a large square of damp linen. He turned. Wood was heard without, angrily demanding admittance. She had to do her thinking at home—under inspection. “I wonder!” said Miss Stanley. The tall, blond boys, right?” “That’s them.
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