"Is that the river?" she asked. "Is the hotel _on_ the river? Where we stay?" "Yes. You'll see.... You'll like it." Gaga was entreating, now rather frightened by Sally's lack of response to his feverish endearments, already inclined to suspicion and sidelong glances of doubt. "Sure I shall!" cried Sally, perfectly composed once more. "It's nice. Does the river go just there?" Gaga became suddenly very enthusiastic. He motioned with the hand in which both small bags were carried. He began to walk at a quicker pace. "You see the front of the hotel--all ... all ivy. Well at the end the wall goes ... goes right down into the water. And there's a balcony ... all ... all covered with glass, on the first floor. Our room opens on this balcony. You can look right down into the river. "Is it a nice river?" He was rather hesitating in face of her sharp tone of inquiry. "Well, er.... Nice? It's ... it's a tidal river. It flows up and down. In ... in the summer things get carried.... I mean, it's not ... not very clean. It's mud." "Oo." Sally's little nose wrinkled. "Does it smell? I mean, is it healthy?" But at this new question Gaga looked very perplexed and rather unhappy, so that she quickly abandoned her curiosity about the river, knowing that she would presently be able to satisfy it more effectively by personal observation. Without further speech they came abreast of the hotel, and turned in under the arched entrance. To the left of them was a door with the legend "COFFEE ROOM"; to the right another door above which hung a little sign "HOTEL." It was by this right-hand door that they entered, and it was here, by a glass enclosed bar, that they waited. Upon an extended shelf there was lying a newspaper which had come through the post for some departed visitor. Beyond the bar Sally noticed decanters and bottles and upturned glasses. Before her was another door, open, which revealed a table upon which glasses had left little circular stains. She was all curiosity. This must be the saloon. She gave a sharp mischievous hunching of the shoulders, and hugged Gaga's arm. Then, as a stout woman came out of another room, she grew sedate, and stood free from her husband in case they should be supposed to be upon their honeymoon. "Good afternoon, Mr. Merrick." She knew him, then. He was no stranger here. "Mrs. Tennant.... How ... how d'you do? This.... I've brought my wife with me this time," stammered Gaga proudly. "Sally, this is Mrs. Tennant."