But, feeling secure of vengeance, he determined to abide his time. Once she heard him mutter, and she leaned down. “Do you know that boy very well, Shar?” Cathy Beck yelled in the general direction of the lavatory. She hated to leave; for this hour would be the most interesting. She held out the foil. “I wonder,” he said, “how you would like to be made love to—boldly or timorously or sentimentally. Finally she decided that even for an hotel she must look round, and that meanwhile she would “book” her luggage at Waterloo. “Going to visit our little friend the vampire?” “What?” He asked, incredulous. For a time she looked at no more apartments, and walked through gaunt and ill-cleaned streets, through the sordid under side of life, perplexed and troubled, ashamed of her previous obtuseness.
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