"I'll be at the Vanderbilt for lunch." And he strode rapidly off and turned over to Fifth Avenue.

Back at the hotel he felt better, but as he walked into the barber-shop, intending to get a head massage, the smell of the powders and tonics brought back Axia's sidelong, suggestive smile, and he left hurriedly.

In the doorway of his room a sudden blackness flowed around him like a divided river.
When he came to himself he knew that several hours had passed.

He pitched onto the bed and rolled over on his face with a deadly fear that he was going mad.

He wanted people, people, some one sane and stupid and good.