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She passed into the hall and up to the polished bureau.

The reception-clerk was busy—speaking into the telephone.

“Oui, madame.... Parfaitement.... Jusqu’à samedi prochain les deux, et après samedi les trois avec un salon en suite.... C’est entendu, madame.... Merci.”

He left the instrument, stooped to make an entry and turned with an apology to Eve.

“Hullo, Jeremy,” said his wife.

At half-past eight that evening Jeremy Broke, Gentleman, entered the Grand Hotel and sent up his name.

His head was aching, and he felt rather tired.

He wondered dully what this dinner with Eve would bring forth. The great gulf fixed between them seemed exceeding wide: everything was insisting upon its width. Not since the day on which he had left her house had he been used as a gentleman: now he was treated with respect—which her wealth had induced. A page she would presently tip was dancing attendance; here was the pomp of a salon which she had purchased; there was champagne waiting for which she would pay....

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