"Tut, tut. Let's come to the point. Let's get down to brass tacks and stop beating around the bush." Well, here she was and the scene was on. "Am I late?" "No, dearest. I was just a little early so as to enjoy the impatience of waiting for you." The nuance was lost upon her. Amorous women were a cold audience for technique. "I'm so upset. Do you mind?" "Not at all, Fanny. Of course you're upset. But it only adds to your charm." He had long ago abandoned love-making tactics, sensing that women who came to him were not particularly interested in tender pretenses. They desired flattery, but direct and practical variants. This one was like the others, flushed, eager, frightened and gay. He felt an exhilaration as they walked toward the entrance of the unpretentious hotel around the corner. A sense of conquest. It was nothing to be enjoyed in itself. But if people knew, which they never could, alas, they would be awed by the ease with which he accomplished such things. One, two, three meetings and--here they were again. Paul Schroder entering a hotel with a woman at his side. "This isn't a bad place," he whispered. "I've already registered. Mr. and Mrs. Paul Johnson. It's better if you know your name, of course." Fanny stood tremblingly in front of the elevator cage as he walked to the desk. She noticed his carelessness, the unselfconscious way in which he smiled at the clerk and paused to buy some cigars. The fear that had grown in her since she left her home appeared to be reaching a climax. Her knees shivered under her dress and a catch in her throat made breathing difficult. "There's nothing to be afraid of," she repeated silently to herself, and tried to understand the cause of her trembling. Even if there were consequences--there was Aubrey. She smiled nervously. It was his fault. He was a fool. They entered the elevator. A sleepy boy shut the cage door after them. Schroder gripped her arm and his fingers caressed the soft flesh. She turned to him and smiled. She was no longer afraid. A shameless, exultant light kindled in her eyes. She leaned against him with a shiver as the elevator lifted slowly. * * * * * ... They had decided to check out in time for her to return home for dinner. "I don't have to go up to the desk with you, do I?" she asked. Schroder smiled tiredly. "Oh no," he said, "you wait at the entrance with the property suit case. Then we'll both take a cab and drive a few blocks. I'll get out with the bag and you drive on home. It's simple." Nevertheless the fear she had experienced in the morning returned as she watched him go to the desk. In another minute it would be all over and everything would be all right. But now--what if someone saw them? Bumped into her accidentally. The lassitude which had filled her when she locked the tumbled hotel room behind her, gave way to a curious panic. Her tired nerves became unhappily alive. "Why--hello, Mrs. Gilchrist."