Part 8 And as she sat on her bed that night, musing and half-undressed, she began to run one hand down her arm and scrutinize the soft flow of muscle under her skin. “Fred,” he said, “do you remember taking me to dinner at the ‘Ambassador’s,’ one evening last September, to meet a girl who was singing there? Hamilton and Drummond and his lot were with us. So he made his dispositions and went off on some other fool’s errand. Give way, and let us render what assistance we can to the poor wretch. “I think,” he said, “that you have found the real home of the lotus-eaters. That last year in Paris, when Annabel and she had lived in different worlds, had often been a nightmare to her. Would you mind?" She wanted another kiss, but she did not know how to go about it; so she satisfied the hunger by pressing his hands to her thundering heart.
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