Or perhaps he had been waiting in the foyer, had
inspected her as she passed, and hadn't liked her looks.
This latter supposition seemed probable; but the head-waiter was so
confident of what she ought to do that the girl could think of no excuse.
After all, it would do little harm to wait and "see what happened." As
Mr. Smith was apparently not living at the Savoy (he had merely asked her
to meet him there), he might have had an accident in train or taxi.
Annesley had made her plans to be away from home for two hours, so she
could give him the benefit of the doubt.
A moment of hesitation, and she was seating herself in a chair offered by
the head-waiter. It was one of a couple drawn up at a small table for
two. Sitting thus, Annesley could see everybody who came in, and--what
was more important--could be seen. By what struck her as an odd
coincidence, the table was decorated with a vase of white roses whose
hearts blushed faintly in the light of a pink-shaded electric lamp.
A quarter of an hour, twenty minutes, dragged along, and no Mr. Smith.
Annesley could follow the passing moments on her wrist-watch in its
silver bracelet, the only present Mrs.
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