'We have accommodation on the second floor.'

'I wish to be high up, out of de dust and in de light,' explained the
Baroness.

'We have no suites on the third floor, madam.'

'Never mind, no mattaire! Have you not two rooms that
communicate?'

Nella consulted her books, rather awkwardly.

'Numbers 122 and 123 communicate.'

'Or is it 121 and 122? the little old lady remarked quickly, and then
bit her lip.

'I beg your pardon. I should have said 121 and 122.'

At the moment Nella regarded the Baroness's correction of her
figures as a curious chance, but afterwards, when the Baroness had
ascended in the lift, the thing struck her as somewhat strange.
Perhaps the Baroness Zerlinski had stayed at the hotel before. For
the sake of convenience an index of visitors to the hotel was kept
and the index extended back for thirty years. Nella examined it,
but it did not contain the name of Zerlinski. Then it was that Nella
began to imagine, what had swiftly crossed her mind when first the
Baroness presented herself at the bureau, that the features of the
Baroness were remotely familiar to her. She thought, not that she
had seen the old lady's face before, but that she had seen