An ordinary type, of course—” Mrs. . Part 6 They spent the next Sunday in Richmond Park, and mingled the happy sensation of being together uninterruptedly through the long sunshine of a summer’s day with the ample discussion of their position. Strange, demure-looking young woman, with wonderful complexion and eyes, and a style about her, too. They're apt to be surly to strangers, but it soon wears off. What hotel should she go to? If she told a cabman to drive to an hotel, any hotel, what would he do—or say? He might drive to something dreadfully expensive, and not at all the quiet sort of thing she required. She turned with an effort. She kept her face downcast. Something forbade him to draw her toward him and seal the compact with a kiss. The smells of skewered fennel, roast chicken, and broiled pheasant saturated the air, and she could smell other wonderful aromas about them.
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