"You are looking better already," she told him.

"If you stayed here for a week and rested and Mrs.M'Cosh cooked you light, nourishing food and Mhor didn't make too much noise, I'm sure you would feel quite well again.

And it does seem such a pity to pay hotel bills when we want you here." Hotel bills! Peter Reid looked sharply at her.

Did she imagine, this girl, that hotel bills were of any moment to him?
Then he looked down at his shabby clothes and recalled their conversation and owned that her mistake was not unjustifiable.
But how extraordinary it was! The instinct that makes people wish to stand well with the rich and powerful he could understand and commend, but the instinct that opens wide doors to the shabby and the unsuccessful was not one that he knew anything about: it was certainly not an instinct for this world as he knew it.
Just as they were finishing tea Mrs.M'Cosh ushered in Miss Pamela Reston.
"You did say I might come in when I liked," she said as she greeted Jean.

"I've had tea, thank you.