Never before had she undressed so swiftly nor felt grateful for thick
woollen blankets on a hard bed. Gradually she grew warm. The blackness,
too, seemed rather comforting.

"I'm only twenty miles from Glenn," she whispered. "How strange! I wonder
will he be glad." She felt a sweet, glowing assurance of that. Sleep did
not come readily. Excitement had laid hold of her nerves, and for a long
time she lay awake. After a while the chug of motor cars, the click of pool
balls, the murmur of low voices all ceased. Then she heard a sound of wind
outside, an intermittent, low moaning, new to her ears, and somehow
pleasant. Another sound greeted her--the musical clanging of a clock that
struck the quarters of the hour. Some time late sleep claimed her.

Upon awakening she found she had overslept, necessitating haste upon her
part. As to that, the temperature of the room did not admit of leisurely
dressing. She had no adequate name for the feeling of the water. And her
fingers grew so numb that she made what she considered a disgraceful matter
of her attire.

Downstairs in the lobby another cheerful red fire burned in the grate. How
perfectly satisfying was an open fireplace! She thrust her numb hands
almost into the blaze, and simply shook with the tingling pain that slowly
warmed out of them. The lobby was deserted. A sign directed her to a dining
room in the basement, where of the ham and eggs and strong coffee she
managed to partake a little. Then she went upstairs into the lobby and out
into the street.

A cold, piercing air seemed to blow right through her. Walking to the near
corner, she paused to look around. Down the main street flowed a leisurely