Her eyes roved the room. “They are not here.”
“Tea,” she said to the waitress, “very black tea, one large pot of tea.”
After that experience in the great dome she felt in need of this mild stimulant.
She was in a state of mellow glow imparted by the tea, when Florence ushered into the now all but empty room a person who on the instant brought a gasp from Jeanne’s pink lips.
For a full moment Jeanne and the stranger stared at one another in amazement.
“You,” said Jeanne at last, “must be I.”
“No,” said the other quite positively, “it is you who are to be some one else. You are to be Lorena LeMar. That is what we are here to talk about.
“Waiter,” she ordered, “bring us coffee, very black.”
“One demi-tasse,” Jeanne murmured.
It was only after the golden-haired movie star had drained the last drop of her coffee piping hot, that she turned to Jeanne.