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" "Let me go," implored Mrs. “Before this there was a sort of restraint—a make-believe. She always managed to get back to the bungalow before he did. Insulting cries became frequent and various, but for the most part she could not understand what was said. He continued to do this for the rest of the evening intermittently, in and out, among other topics. Hetty, looking out of the window—she always smoked her after-breakfast cigarette at the window for the benefit of the less advanced section of Morningside Park society—and trying not to raise objections, saw Miss Stanley going down toward the shops. Ascending the stairs, and conducting them along a sombre gallery, in which Trenchard noticed that every door was painted black, and numbered, he stopped at the entrance of a chamber; and, selecting a key from the bunch at his girdle, unlocked it. Unlocking it, he entered the chamber, which by no means belied its external appearance.
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