A strange sight met her eyes. Disorder was everywhere. The little writing table, usually so neat and well ordered, was a confusion of jumbled papers and letters. Signs of a hasty departure were everywhere.
Sana, however, took it only to mean that some business interest had called de Rochelle away in a hurry. Somewhat relieved Sana picked up a book and going over to the deeply cushioned divan, sat down to beguile away the time pending his return. But her mind was in a turmoil and she could not concentrate on her reading.
Nervously she let the minutes creep past. At last she could stand the strain no longer. Taking the phone she called the desk clerk and had him page de Rochelle. It was of no avail. Again she tried it, but still the missing man was not to be found.
Beside herself with fear Sana called up Dr. White, but he assured her that everything was all right and that no doubt she would hear from de Rochelle later on. She tried to reason with herself that there was nothing to fear, but as the hours went by, each seemingly longer than the one before, she grew so restless that her anxiety could not be calmed.
She could wait no longer in that lonely room, so about ten o’clock she hurried over to see Mrs. O’Brien. To her she related her fears, but she could do nothing to comfort her or offer any solution. Alarmed at Sana’s state of mind Mrs. O’Brien called up Dr. White.
His words, though laconic, conveyed a world of meaning:
“All is well, and will be for the benefit of Sana. Keep her at your home tonight.”
But Sana would not listen to any such suggestion. Her alarm had increased three-fold and although Mrs. O’Brien did everything to persuade her to remain, Sana hurried back to the hotel.
She felt sure that by this time her sweetheart would have returned. But the desk clerk had neither seen nor heard anything of him.
Once more she found herself within the precincts of his apartment. She could hardly keep from screaming aloud in her misery.