Then she would descend to the magnificent hall, filled with perfumes, with the hum of conversation and the discreet wailings of the violins, in order to take tea with her friends in the hotel,--formidable millionaires from the two hemispheres who vaguely suspected the existence of an infirmity known as poverty, but incapable of imagining that it might attack persons of their own world.
Meanwhile the little girl used to play in the hotel garden of the Palace Hotel with other children dressed up and adorned like luxurious and fragile dolls, each one worth many millions.
"From my childhood," continued Freya, "I had been a companion of women who are now celebrated for their riches in New York, Paris, and in London.

I have been on familiar terms with great heiresses that are to-day, through their marriages, duchesses and even princesses of the blood royal.

Many of them have since passed by me, without recognizing me, and I have said nothing, knowing that the equality of childhood is no more than a vague recollection...." Thus she had grown into womanhood.

A few of her father's casual bargains had permitted them to continue this existence of brilliant and expensive poverty.

The promoter had considered such environment indispensable for his future negotiations.