"Wait," said Jan.
He went through the wide door to the desk. "I want a room for a lady," he said to the clerk.
"Lady? Sure. Four dollars."
Jan paid the four dollars and registered. The clerk touched a bell. A boy bobbed up.
"I will bring her in by the ladies' entrance," said Jan; but in passing out to the street he caught a glimpse of a room across the hall—a room with tables, and men and women at the tables, and drinks on the tables. He halted for a longer look and went out to the cab finally with a troubled look.
"There's a room for you, but"—he took off his hat and ran his fingers through his hair—"I don't think you ought to stay here." He had put his [pg 240] head inside the cab and was speaking low, so that the cabman should not hear. "I don't think it's a nice place for a lady."
"But"—she almost smiled—"I'm afraid we'll have to put up with it. Look!" She spread wide her rumpled skirt. Her eyes rolled down to indicate her torn bodice. With her fingertips she touched the bruises on her face and the marks on her neck. "And I haven't even a hat on," she concluded with an undoubted smile.
Jan gave in. He paid the cabman, and led her through the ladies' entrance to where the bell-boy was waiting. The boy led the way upstairs, opened a door and turned on the light.
"You wait out in the hall," Jan said to the bell-boy. "The lady may want hot water and things to clean up. You know? The lady"—Jan tapped the boy on the shoulder—"fell out of a buggy and lost her hat." He handed the boy a dollar bill. "You understand now?"
The boy tucked the bill away. "I'm wise! I'm wise!" He winked at Jan and left the room.