Then he might join the procession again
as long as he would behave. But at present she knew she could sway him
as she would, and she touched the orchids at her belt with tender little
caressing movements and melting looks. Even before she reached home she
knew he would have a box of something rarer or more costly waiting for
her, if the city afforded such.
She set him down at his club, quite well satisfied with her few minutes.
She was glad it didn't last longer, for it would have grown tiresome;
she had had just enough, carried him just far enough on the wave of
emotion, to stimulate her own soul.
Sweeping away from the curb again, bowing graciously to two or three
other acquaintances who were going in or out of the club building, she
gave an order for the hospital and set her face sternly to the duty
before her.
A little breeze of expectation preceded her entrance into the hospital,
a stir among the attendants about the door. Passing nurses apprized her
furs and orchids; young interns took account of her eyes--the mouse-eyes
had returned, but they lured with something unspeakable and thrilling in
them.
She waited with a nice little superb air that made everybody hurry to
serve her, and presently she was shown up to the door of Bonnie
Brentwood's room. Her chauffeur had followed, bearing a large pasteboard
suit-box which he set down at the door and departed.
"Is this Miss Brentwood's room?" she asked of the nurse who opened the
door grudgingly.
Pages:
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132