Lassitude?” “I suppose so. ” So they went this time to the Rococo, in Germain Street, and up-stairs to a landing upon which stood a bald-headed waiter with whiskers like a French admiral and discretion beyond all limits in his manner. As silent as she had remained about who had brought her home last night. Here her strength completely failed her, and she was compelled to seek some repose. What was to happen now? She turned to Roding quickly.
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