People were strolling about in evening clothes, hatless, the women in white opera cloaks and filmy gowns, their silk-stockinged feet very much in evidence, resembling almost some strange kind of tropical birds with their little shrill laughter and graceful movements, as they made their way towards the Club or round to the Rooms, or to one of the restaurants for supper.

Whilst Hunterleys hesitated, there was a touch upon his arm.
He glanced around.
"Hullo, David!" he exclaimed.

"Were you waiting for me ?" The young man fell into step by his side.
"I have been to the hotel," he said, in a low tone.

"They thought you might be here.

Can you come up later--say at one o'clock ?" "Certainly," Hunterleys answered.