licia with perfect
composure.

CHAPTER V.

Among the many huge caravansaries that of recent years have sprung up in
New York to provide luxurious quarters regardless of cost for those who
can afford to pay for the best, none could rival the Astruria in size
and magnificence. Occupying an entire block in the very heart of the
residential district, it took precedence over all the other apartment
hotels of the metropolis as the biggest and most splendidly appointed
hostelry of its kind in the world. It was, indeed, a small city in
itself. It was not necessary for its fortunate tenants to leave it
unless they were so minded. Everything for their comfort and pleasure
was to be had without taking the trouble to go out of doors. On the
ground floor were shops of all kinds, which catered only to the
Astruria's patrons. There were also on the premises a bank, a broker's
office, a hairdresser, and a postal-telegraph office. A special feature
was the garden court, containing over 30,000 square feet of open space,
and tastefully laid out with plants and flowers. Here fountains
splashed and an orchestra played while the patrons lounged on
comfortable rattan chairs or gossiped with their friends. Up on the
sixteenth floor was the cool roof garden, an exquisite bower of palms
and roses artificially painted by a famous French artist, with its
recherche restaurant, its picturesque _tziganes_, and its superb view of
all Manhattan Island.

The Astruria was the last word in expensive apartment hotel building.
Architects declared that it was as far as modern lavishness and
extravagance could go. Its interior arrangements were in keeping with
its external splendor. Its apartments were of noble dimensions, richly
decorated, and equipped with every device, new and old, that modern
science and builders' ingenuity could suggest. That the rents were on a
scale with the grandeur of the establishment goes without saying. Only
long purses could stand the strain. It was a favorite headquarters for
Westerners who had "struck it rich," wealthy bachelors, and successful
actors and opera singers who loved the limelight on and off the stage.

Sunday evening was usually exceedingly quiet at the Astruria. Most of
the tenants were out of town over the week-end, and as the restaurant
and roof garden were only slimly patronized, the elevators ran less
frequently, making less chatter and bustle in corridors and stairways.
Stillness reigned everywhe