what she ought to do that the girl could think of no excuse. After all, it would do little harm to wait and "see what happened." As Mr. Smith was apparently not living at the Savoy (he had merely asked her to meet him there), he might have had an accident in train or taxi. Annesley had made her plans to be away from home for two hours, so she could give him the benefit of the doubt.
A moment of hesitation, and she was seating herself in a chair offered by the head-waiter. It was one of a couple drawn up at a small table for two. Sitting thus, Annesley could see everybody who came in, and--what was more important--could be seen. By what struck her as an odd coincidence, the table was decorated with a vase of white roses whose hearts blushed faintly in the light of a pink-shaded electric lamp.
A quarter of an hour, twenty minutes, dragged along, and no Mr. Smith. Annesley could follow the passing moments on her wrist-watch in its silver bracelet, the only present Mrs. Ellsworth had ever given her,
I was surprised by this offering by the Williamson husband and wife writing team. Their typical cotton candy travelogue plot didn't appear in this book. Instead, we have a young (hopelessly and almost incredibly innocent) girl who is taken in by a man who clearly cannot be all that he seems to be to her. I found it interesting even though the heroine's stupidity seemed over the top (perhaps things were simpler in the early 1900s). Somehow I always like the Williamsons no matter what they write.
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