So I paid and dismissed my guide, also the driver, pushed open the swinging glass doors, and entered the lounge, Suzee beside me.

We were not late enough; in another hour the hall would have been deserted.  As it was, the band had ceased playing, but there were numbers of men lounging about and smoking, and groups of women still sitting in the rocking-chairs under the palms.

Through the hall we went, straight to the lift, but every eye was turned upon us and I felt rather than heard the gasp of horror that our entry caused.  The elevator boy almost collapsed on the ground as I motioned Suzee to go in and sit down, which she did—­on the floor.

However, no actual force was used to restrain our movements, and we reached my rooms without any hindrance.

It was decidedly an improvement to have her there; the rooms looked better, more comfortable, more as my rooms were accustomed to look.

Suzee herself was extravagantly delighted, and shewed it in every look and gesture.  Gay and radiant in her brilliant scarlet silk, she moved about under the electric light like a glowing animated picture.

“What will you have to eat or drink?” I asked as I saw her look curiously into the jug of iced water that adorned my table.  “I’ll order some supper.”

“Anything, Treevor, anything you eat; I don’t mind, and I never drink anything but tea.  May I get out my own tea-things and make it?”

“Certainly,” I answered, and I watched her interestedly as she went down on her knees before her little trunk and opened it, turning out beautiful coloured silks of all shades on to the floor.

While we were thus innocently engaged the hotel manager burst suddenly into the room.  He looked very perturbed, and his face was a deep purple.

“Now, sir, will you tell me what you mean by behaving like this in a respectable hotel?”

He caught sight of Suzee sitting on the ground and started; the girl stared up at him with a look of astonishment in which I thought recognition blended.

“Come outside,” I said mildly, “and take a turn in the corridor with me.”  And we both went out and shut the door.

I talked with him for fifteen minutes and explained it was unwise and unnecessary to make a great fuss and turn a good customer into the streets at this late hour.  We were going in any case as soon as we could get off; in the mean time, the engagement of the next room to mine at seven dollars a day for Suzee would satisfy the proprieties.  An artist must have models for his pictures and must put them up somewhere.  Besides, I pointed out that he could put all my transgressions down at full length in the bill.

This seemed to soothe him very much, and our interview ended by his unlocking the door of the next room, turning on the lights, and saying what a fine one it was.  I promised Suzee should occupy it, and told him we wanted supper and some champagne he could recommend.  This completely softened him, and he left me promising to send the waiter for orders.