I would not go as
far as the gate, but would dismiss my cab at the corner of the quiet
street, as it would not he wise to advertise the fact that Mademoiselle
de Renzie was receiving a visit from a young man at midnight. Fifteen
minutes would give me plenty of time for all this: therefore, at about a
quarter to twelve I started to go downstairs, and in the entrance hall
almost ran against the last person on earth I expected to see--Diana
Forrest.
She was not alone, of course; but for a second or two I saw no one else.
There was none other except her precious and beautiful face in the
world; and for a wild instant I asked myself if she had come here to see
me, to take back all her cruel words of misunderstanding, and to take me
hack also. But it was only for an instant--a very mad instant.
Then I realised that she couldn't have known I was to be at the Elysee
Palace Hotel, and that even if she had, she would not have dreamed of
coming to me. As common sense swept my brain clear, I saw near the
precious and beautiful face other faces: Lady Mountstuart's, Lord
Mountstuart's, Lisa Drummond's, and Bob West's.
They were all in evening dress, the ladies in charming wraps which
appeared to consist mostly of lace and chiffon, and evidently they had
just come into the hotel from some place of amusement.
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