CHAPTER XVI
Along the deserted corridor of the big hotel Pansy was hurrying. Her outing with Le Breton had made her late. By the time she was dressed and ready dinner was well started. She went along quickly, still thinking over the events of the day.
Everything had turned out exactly as she had hoped. She wanted to keep Le Breton's love, and yet not be tied in any way—to have him in the background to marry if, or when, she felt so disposed.
In the full glare of the electric light, going down the wide stairs, she entered the large patio, looking a picture.
She was wearing a dress of some yellow, gauzy material that matched her hair, a garment that clung around her like a sunbeam, bright and shimmering. There were gold shoes on her feet, and around her neck a long chain of yellow amber beads.
As she crossed the big, empty hall, making towards the dining-room, a man rose from his chair—the short, red-faced man from whom Le Breton had rescued her a few nights before.
There was an air about him as if he had been waiting there to waylay her.
Pansy saw him and she swerved slightly, but beyond that she gave him no attention.
However, he was not so easily avoided.