"Not I," she answered gaily. "I came to London unexpectedly, and my

friends could not take me in. I had a vague sort of idea that this was

the region where one finds apartments, so I told my cabman to drive in

this direction while I sat inside his vehicle and endeavoured to form

a plan of campaign. He brought me past this house, and I thought I

would call and leave your brother's letter. Then I saw Mrs. White----"

"No more," Sydney Courtlaw begged, laughingly. "You were booked of

course. An unexpected vacancy, wasn't it? Every one comes in on

unexpected vacancy."

"And they go?"

"When they get the chance. It really isn't so easy to go as it seems.

We have come to the conclusion, Brendon and I, that Mrs. White is

psychologically gifted. She throws a sort of spell over us all. We

struggle against it at first, but in the end we have to submit. She

calls us her guests, but in reality we are her prisoners. We simply

can't get away. There's that old gentleman at the end of the

table--Bullding his name is. He will tell you confidentially that he

simply hates the place. Yet he's been here for six years, and he's as

much a fixture as that sham mahogany sideboard. Everyone will grumble

to you confidentially--Miss Ellicot, she's our swagger young lady, you

know--up there, next to Miss White, she will tell you that it is so

out of the world here, so far away from everyone one knows. Old

Kesterton, choleric-looking individual nearly opposite, will curse the

cooking till he's black in the face, but he never misses a dinner.

The Semitic looking young man opposite, who seems to have been

committing you to memory piecemeal, will tell you that he was never so

bored in all his life as he has been here. Yet he stays. They all

stay!"

"And you yourself?"

Brendon laughed.

"Oh, we are also under the spell," he declared, "but I think that we

are here mainly because it is cheap. It is really cheap, you know. To

appreciate it you should try rooms."

"Is this a fair sample of the dinner?" Anna asked, who had the healthy

appetite of a strong young woman.

"It is, if anything, a little above the average," Brendon admitted.

Anna said nothing. The young man opposite was straining his ears to

listen to their conversation. Mrs. White caught her eye, and smiled

benignly down the table.

"I hope that Mr. Courtlaw is looking after you, Miss Pellissier," she

said.

"Admirably, thank you," Anna answered.

The young lady with frizzled hair, whom Brendon had pointed out to her

as Miss Ellicot, leaned forward from her hostess's side. She had very

frizzy hair indeed, very black eyebrows, a profusion of metallic

adornments about her neck and waist, and an engaging smile.




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