It became a habit with him to instinctively lift his hand to his
ear when one of them hove in sight, having seen him first.
"That's what I get for being a liar," he lamented dolefully. Constance
had just whispered her condolences. "Do you think they'll consider it
odd that you don't shout at me too?"
"You might explain that you can tell what I am saying by looking at my
lips," she said. He was immensely relieved.
Considerable difficulty had to be overcome at the Bristol in the matter
of rooms. Without going into details, Brock resignedly took the only
room left in the crowded hotel--a six by ten cubby-hole on the top floor
overlooking the air-shaft. He had to go down one flight for his morning
tub, and he never got it because he refused to stand in line and await
his turn. Mrs. Medcroft had the choicest room in the hotel, looking down
upon the beautiful Kaerntner-Ring. Constance proposed, in the goodness of
her heart, to give up to Brock her own room, adjoining that of her
sister, provided Edith would take her in to sleep with her. Edith was
perfectly willing, but interposed the sage conclusion that gossiping
menials might not appreciate a preference so unique.
Mr. Roxbury Medcroft's sky parlour adjoined the elevator shaft. The head
of his bed was in close proximity to the upper mechanism of the lift, a
thin wall intervening. A French architect, who had a room hard by, met
Brock in the hall, hollow-eyed and haggard, on the morning after their
first night.
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