But what are you doing here?” “Old Père Runeval met me on your doorstep, and he would not let me go. Capes scored back with an uncompromising vigor that was his way of complimenting her intelligence. 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. He couldn't be in better hands than those in which he has placed himself. The sea was no longer rolling brass; it was bluer than anything he had ever seen. She did most urgently desire to save her face in Morningside Park, and for long hours she could think of no way of putting it that would not be in the nature of unconditional admission of defeat.
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