Immediately the "boy" went forth with his paper lantern, repeating a cry as he ran—warning to clear the way. 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. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. With the same inducements we should all do the same thing. But, what brought you here?" "Excuse me, Sir Rowland. But I can easily bring in a sing-song girl to play for you.
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