And Fanny shook her head, "Thanks.
You're awfully kind. But--no."
"Why not?" demanded Fenger, gruffly.
"Perhaps because I'm tired. And there's something else I
must do."
Ella looked relieved. Fenger's eyes bored down upon Fanny,
but she seemed not to feel them. She held out her hand.
"You're going back to-morrow?" Fenger asked. "I'm not
leaving until Thursday."
"To-morrow, with Ella. Good-by. It's been a glorious
drive. I feel quite rested."
"You just said you were tired."
The elevator door clanged, shutting out the sight of
Fenger's resentful frown.
"He's as sensitive as a soubrette," said Ella. "I'm glad
you decided not to go out. I'm dead, myself. A kimono for
the rest of the evening."
Fanny seemed scarcely to hear her. With a nod she left
Ella, and entered her own room. There she wasted no time.
She threw her hat and coat on the bed. Her suitcase was on
the baggage stand. She turned on all the lights, swung the
closed suitcase up to the table, shoved the table against
the wall, up-ended the suitcase so that its leather side
presented a smooth surface, and propped a firm sheet of
white cardboard against the impromptu rack.
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