It was just a shabby, stupid, furtive business that began between us. “Like him who stood on Darien I view uncharted sea Ten thousand days, ten thousand nights Before my Queen and me. Very well, then. Where can we sit down and talk?” He led her across the room towards a window recess, in which a tall, fair young man was seated with an evening paper in his hand. She wondered occasionally why his mind needed so much distraction. ’ Releasing her, he turned and walked swiftly towards the door. These little squares of coloured paper interested her mightily—hotel labels. And then at the street corner she came face to face with Nigel Ennison. I knew him in spite of his dress. They went first to a hotel, and then out again on to the boulevards. Of a certainty, she also was imbecile.
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