E. She was very pretty. 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. The knight, who could ill brook this familiarity, instantly arose. They had as many designations as grades. In the meanwhile, as he talked, he scrutinized her face, ran his eyes over her careless, gracious poise, wondered hard about her. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha.
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