There was also a curious interview at a big hotel with a middle-aged, white-powdered woman, all covered with jewels and reeking of scent, who wanted a Companion. She put out her hands to avoid his embrace. Recollect, he's chained to the ground by a great horse-padlock, and is never unloosed except when he comes to that hatch. She could smell his cologne underneath his collar, or perhaps his aftershave. Wild in my presence! He's the right-hand of the community! We could do nothing without him!" "We!" repeated Wood, significantly. The following morning found him in the doctor's waiting room, a black cigar turning unlighted in his teeth. ‘I do not understand you. CHAPTER XX.
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