s, into the interior of
the taxi. And then came the supremely delicate operation--that of
introducing a third person into the same vehicle. It was accomplished;
three chins and six knees fraternized in close intimacy; but the door
would not shut. Wheezing, snorting, shaking, complaining, the taxi
drew slowly away from Mr. Sachs's luxurious automobile and left it
forlorn to its chauffeur. Mr. Sachs imperturbably smiled. ("I have two
other automobiles," said Mr. Sachs.) In some sixty seconds the taxi
stopped in front of the tremendous glass awning of the Stuyvesant. The
baggage was unstrapped; the passengers were extracted one by one from
the cell, and Edward Henry saw Mr. Sachs give two separate dollar
bills to the driver.

"By Jove!" he murmured.

"I beg your pardon," said Mr. Sachs, politely.

"Nothing!" said Edward Henry.

They walked into the hotel, and passed through a long succession of
corridors and vast public rooms surging with well-dressed men and
women.

"What's all this crowd for?" asked Edward Henry.

"What crowd?" asked Mr. Sachs, surprised.

Edward Henry saw that he had blundered.

"I prefer the upper floors," remarked Mr. Sachs as they were being
flung upwards in a gilded elevator, and passing rapidly all numbers
from 1 to 14.

The elevator made an end of Carlo Trent's manhood. He collapsed. Mr.
Sachs regarded him, and then said:

"I think I'll get an extra room for Mr. Trent. He ought to go to bed."

Edward Henry enthusiastically concurred.

"And stay there!" said Edward Henry.

Pale Carlo Trent permitted himself to be put to bed. But, therein, he
proved fractious. He was anxious about his linen. Mr. Sachs telephoned
from the bedside, and a laundry-maid came. He was anxious about his
best lounge-suit. Mr. Sachs telephoned, and a valet came. Then he
wanted a siphon of soda-water, and Mr. Sachs telephoned, and a waiter
came. Then it was a newspaper he required. Mr. Sachs telephoned and
a page came. All these functionaries, together with two reporters,
peopled Mr. Trent's bedroom more or less simultaneously. It was Edward
Henry's bright notion to add to them a doctor--a doctor whom Mr. Sachs
knew, a doctor who would perceive at once that bed was the only proper
place for Carlo Trent.

"Now," said Edward Henry, when he and Mr. Sachs were participating in
a private lunch amid the splendours and the grim, silent service of
the latter's suite at the Stuyvesant, "I have fully grasped the fact