When Angela di Sereno
had been able to afford everything, she had longed for nothing. There was
a new spice in life. And the redemption of the bag was to be a dead
secret.
"Back to the hotel, please; and I'll engage your car for the next three or
four days," said Mrs. May to Sealman, suddenly full of kindness for him
and all the world.
Nick sat in the window of a better hotel than Angela's. She had chosen
hers on the advice of a lady in the dining-car, a lovely blonde, _nee_
brunette, who had once enjoyed a honeymoon in Los Angeles, and was now on
her way Nevadaward to get a divorce. Nick had been to Los Angeles before,
and knew where to go without asking advice, though the same lovely lady
would have been enchanted to give him some. Mr. Millard was also in his
hotel, and would not move to Mrs. May's (although it was cheaper), so long
as Nick remained on guard. That was one of the reasons why Nick stayed.
But there were others. His luggage he had wired for, and it would come
back.
He sat by the window, wondering whether Mrs. May would be angry if he
showed himself; or whether, on the principle that a cat may look at a
king, she would consider that he had as much right to be in Los Angeles as
she had.
Then she flashed by in the blue automobile, which was as becoming as she
had expected.
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