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. Her pulses began to race. ’ ‘The word of whom?’ came scoffingly from the pretty lips. Taber returning. Taber did not leave all his money in the office. You are afraid—that here in London—I shall not be a success.
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