62 <8> A FIRST DATE WITH JOHN DIEDERMAYER The weekend began for her with that luxury of all luxuries, sleep. " Mrs. Even the abstract paintings on the wall were gray. “Oh God!” she cried, “Oh God!” and flung aside her opera-cloak, and for a time walked about the room—a Corsair’s bride at a crisis of emotion. The music confused and distracted her, and made her struggle against a feeling of intoxication. Wear one on the stage on the following day. Once more breaking through the hedge he took to the fields. She had followed a bobbing white hat and gray jacket until she reached the Euston Road corner of Tottenham Court Road, and there, by the name on a bus and the cries of a conductor, she made a guess of her way. ‘Jacques, do not die while I am gone. .
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