LOUIS, MAITRE D'HOTEL I measured out that quarter of an hour into minutes, and almost into seconds.

Then I knocked at the door of the sitting-room, and was bidden enter by Felicia Delora herself.

She was alone, but she was dressed for the street, and was apparently just leaving the hotel again.

Her clothes were of fashionable make, and cut with the most delightful simplicity.

Her toilette was that of the ideal Frenchwoman who goes out for a morning's shopping, and may possibly lunch in the Bois.