She laughed till the tears stood in her eyes. They entered a hansom and turned on to the Embankment. “I did it for love of you,” he said. ‘But then again, possibly not. She went past three keenly observant and ostentatiously preoccupied waiters down the thickcarpeted staircase and out of the Hotel Rococo, that remarkable laboratory of relationships, past a tall porter in blue and crimson, into a cool, clear night.
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