“I doubted my luck, at least. "As it's getting late, and the porter may be gone to bed," he observed; "I'll take the pass-key, and let myself in. But there is need for the proof that I am me, and that is what I look for. “WHAT a place! “Stuffy isn’t the word for it. Every now and then her general presence became radiantly dazzling in his eyes; she would appear in the street coming toward him, a surprise, so fine and smiling and welcoming was she, so expanded and illuminated and living, in contrast with his mere expectation. . ’ The girl nodded understandingly.
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