Surely she would show herself in the evening.
At dinner time he had the same unpleasant experience, believing that Freya was going to appear every time that an unknown hand or a vague silhouette of a woman pushed the door open from the other side of the opaque glass.
He strolled up and down the vestibule a long time, chewing rabidly on a cigar, and finally decided to accost the porter, an astute brunette whose blue lapels embroidered with keys of gold were peeping over the edge of his writing desk, taking in everything, informing himself of everything, while he appeared to be asleep.
The approach of Ulysses made him spring up as though he heard the rustling of paper money.

His information was very precise.

The _signora_ Talberg very seldom ate at the hotel.

She had some friends who were occupying a furnished flat in the district of Chiaja, with whom she usually passed almost the entire day.

Sometimes she did not even return to sleep....