"The Hotel Rome," he replied.
"Ah," said the lady thoughtfully. And turning, she slowly retraced her steps.
[CHAPTER XIX]
SALOME FINDS A WELCOME
THE following day was oppressively hot, and Juliet felt no inclination to go abroad. Her room, being immediately below the roof, grew like an oven as the heat of the day increased; her head throbbed, the odours which rose from the kitchen sickened her, but she chose to remain in her room rather than encounter again the curious gaze of strangers. Adolphe waited upon her at mealtimes, and showed himself prompt and eager in serving her; but her appetite failed in the stifling atmosphere, and the dishes he set out with such care were left almost untasted.
How the leaden hours passed Juliet hardly knew. She could not read, she could hardly think connectedly. A kind of stupor possessed her as she lay back in the crimson velvet chair; but every now and then sharp, clear visions of the past would cross her mind, stinging her into bitter consciousness of her sin and folly. Sometimes the face of the lady who had looked at her so kindly and spoken so gently would come back to her, and she would ask herself where she had seen her before, or of whom it could be that the stranger reminded her.
Juliet was resting with her eyes closed when a loud, plaintive "mew" made her start, and looking up she saw a cat standing at her open window regarding her with beseeching eyes. It was a tabby, very prettily marked, but thin and miserable-looking, which forlornly wandering across the roofs had lighted on Juliet's open window.
"Puss, puss, puss!" she called gently, fearing to frighten it.
The cat looked at her doubtfully, mistrusting perhaps the foreign accents.
"Mignon, mignon!" Juliet tried next, in her most ingratiating manner.