" "I have often conjured up some frightful vision of the dead," murmured the knight, "but I never dreamed of an interview with the living. He rang the doorbell, even though she had already cracked the door for him. A man is so apt to—to take women a little too lightly. I do not blame you for the act. “Time for my Patience,” she said. Red velvet curtains rustled under dim lights as the door shut with a heavy snap. She got a bun and some cocoa in the little refreshment-room, and then wandered through the galleries up-stairs, crowded with Polynesian idols and Polynesian dancinggarments, and all the simple immodest accessories to life in Polynesia, to a seat among the mummies. His name was Bartolomeo di Alberti.
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