She cowered in the motor until they had almost reached the door, when she flung her arms round his neck and kissed him wildly again, sobbing with rage and terror:
"You shall not marry Amaryllis; I will kill you both first."
He smiled in the darkness, and she felt that he was mocking her, and suddenly turned and bit his arm, her teeth meeting in the cloth of his fur-lined coat.
He shook her off as he would have done a rat:
"Never quite apropos, Harietta! Always a little late! But here we have arrived, and you will not care for your admirers, the concierge, and the lift men, to see you in such a state. Put your veil over your face and go quietly to your rooms. I will wish you a very good-night—and farewell!"
He got out and stood with mock respect uncovered to assist her, and she was obliged to follow him. The hall porter and the numerous personnel of the hotel were looking on.
He bowed once more and appeared to kiss her hand:
"Good-bye, Harietta! Sleep well."
Then he re-entered the car and was whirled away.
She staggered for a second and then moved forward to the lift. But as she went in, two tall men who had been waiting stepped forward and joined her, and all three were carried aloft, and as she walked to her salon she saw that they were following her.