But just then the cab stopped before the door of No. 6, the cabman descended.
There was no further question as to les convenances.
Chapter Twelve
“Buda-Pesth.
DEAR ROSINA,—If you’re laid up I might just as well take a week more in this direction. Plenty to see, I find, and lots of jolly company lying around loose. I’ll get back about the twelfth and we’ll plan to skip then as fast as we can. Keep on writing Poste Restante, Buda, and I’ll have them forward. Don’t try to fool me any by being too sick to sail. I’ve got to go the nineteenth and you must too.
“Lovingly,
“Jack.”
She sat in the little salon the night of October fifth and read the above affectionate epistle which the postman had brought to keep her company, because every one else in the house was gone to the famous concert of the famous pianist.