I never saw a man who wasn't. ” She marked an hotel that seemed neither opulent nor odd in a little side street opening on the Embankment, made up her mind with an effort, and, returning by Hungerford Bridge to Waterloo, took a cab to this chosen refuge with her two pieces of luggage. Everywhere I went and rapped at a door I found behind it another dreadful dingy woman—another fallen queen, I suppose— dingier than the last, dirty, you know, in grain. Monsieur could rely upon his special attention, and for the cooking—well, he had his customers, who came from their homes to him year after year. She refused to accept her fate, but what is it that she could do about it? Night after night she invented alternatives. For a time Ann Veronica went on her way gauging the quality of sordid streets. She tiptoed into the entryway where some decorator had placed a live orchid upon a glassy ebony table. He laughed suddenly, and released her.
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