The sky was cloudless, effulgent blue. The white haze of poison clouded her eyes. I am yours for the making over. What hotel should she go to? If she told a cabman to drive to an hotel, any hotel, what would he do—or say? He might drive to something dreadfully expensive, and not at all the quiet sort of thing she required. He would know her address to-morrow. “Come this way,” he said. " Downstairs he sought the hotel manager.
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