unoccupied desk, used in daytime by one of the assistant managers. Hefound a listing for Mark Preyscott at a Garden District address and askedfor the number. The ringing tone continued for some time before a woman'svoice answered sleepily. Identifying himself, he announced, "I have amessage for Anna from Miss Preyscott."The voice, with a Deep South accent, said, "This is Anna. Is Miss Marshaall right?""She's all right, but she asked me to tell you that she will stay thenight at the hotel."The housekeeper's voice said, "Who did you say that was again?"Peter explained patiently. "Look," he said, "if you want to check, whydon't you call back? It's the St. Gregory, and ask for the assistantmanager's desk in the lobby."The woman, obviously relieved, said, "Yes, sir, I'll do that." In lessthan a minute they were reconnected. "It's all right," she said, "now Iknow who it is for sure. We worry about Miss Marsha a bit, what with herdaddy being away and all."Replacing the telephone, he found himself thinking Again about MarshaPreyscott. He decided he would have a talk with her tomorrow to find outjust what happened before the attempted rape occurred. The disorder inthe suite, for example, posed several unanswered questions.He was aware that Herbie Chandler had been glancing at him covertly fromthe bell captain's desk. Now, walking over to him, Peter said curtly, "Ithought I gave instructions about checking a disturbance on theeleventh."Chandler's weasel face framed innocent eyes. "But I went, Mr. Mac. Iwalked right around and everything was quiet."And so it had been, Herbie thought. In the end he had gone nervously tothe eleventh and, to his relief, whatever 46 Monday Eveningdisturbance there might have been earlier had ended by the time hearrived. Even better, on returning to the lobby, he learned that the twocall girls had left the hotel without detection."You couldn't have looked or listened very hard."Herbie Chandler shook his head obstinately. "All I can say is, I did whatyou asked, Mr. Mac. You said to go up, and I did, even though that isn'tour job.""Very well." Though instinct told him that the bell captain knew morethan he was saying, Peter decided not to press the point. "I'll be makingsome inquiries. Maybe I'll talk to you again."As he recrossed the lobby and entered an elevator, he was conscious ofbeing watched both by Herbie Chandler and the house officer, Ogilvie.This time he rode up one floor only, to the main mezzanine.Christine was waiting in his office. She had kicked off her shoes andcurled her feet under her in the upholstered leather chair she hadoccupied an hour and a half before. Her eyes were closed, her thoughtsfar away in time and distance. She summoned them back, looking up asPeter came in."Don't marry a hotel man," he told her. "There's never an end to iv,"It's a timely warning," Christine said. "I hadn't told you, but I've acrush on that new sous-chef. The one who looks like Rock Hudson." Sheuncurled her. legs, reaching for her shoes. "Do we have more troubles?"He grinned, finding the sight and

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unoccupied desk, used in daytime by one of the assistant managers. Hefound a listing for Mark Preyscott at a Garden District address and askedfor the number. The ringing tone continued for some time before a woman'svoice answered sleepily. Identifying himself, he announced, "I have amessage for Anna from Miss Preyscott."The voice, with a Deep South accent, said, "This is Anna. Is Miss Marshaall right?""She's all right, but she asked me to tell you that she will stay thenight at the hotel."The housekeeper's voice said, "Who did you say that was again?"Peter explained patiently. "Look," he said, "if you want to check, whydon't you call back? It's the St. Gregory, and ask for the assistantmanager's desk in the lobby."The woman, obviously relieved, said, "Yes, sir, I'll do that." In lessthan a minute they were reconnected. "It's all right," she said, "now Iknow who it is for sure. We worry about Miss Marsha a bit, what with herdaddy being away and all."Replacing the telephone, he found himself thinking Again about MarshaPreyscott. He decided he would have a talk with her tomorrow to find outjust what happened before the attempted rape occurred. The disorder inthe suite, for example, posed several unanswered questions.He was aware that Herbie Chandler had been glancing at him covertly fromthe bell captain's desk. Now, walking over to him, Peter said curtly, "Ithought I gave instructions about checking a disturbance on theeleventh."Chandler's weasel face framed innocent eyes. "But I went, Mr. Mac. Iwalked right around and everything was quiet."And so it had been, Herbie thought. In the end he had gone nervously tothe eleventh and, to his relief, whatever 46 Monday Eveningdisturbance there might have been earlier had ended by the time hearrived. Even better, on returning to the lobby, he learned that the twocall girls had left the hotel without detection."You couldn't have looked or listened very hard."Herbie Chandler shook his head obstinately. "All I can say is, I did whatyou asked, Mr. Mac. You said to go up, and I did, even though that isn'tour job.""Very well." Though instinct told him that the bell captain knew morethan he was saying, Peter decided not to press the point. "I'll be makingsome inquiries. Maybe I'll talk to you again."As he recrossed the lobby and entered an elevator, he was conscious ofbeing watched both by Herbie Chandler and the house officer, Ogilvie.This time he rode up one floor only, to the main mezzanine.Christine was waiting in his office. She had kicked off her shoes andcurled her feet under her in the upholstered leather chair she hadoccupied an hour and a half before. Her eyes were closed, her thoughtsfar away in time and distance. She summoned them back, looking up asPeter came in."Don't marry a hotel man," he told her. "There's never an end to iv,"It's a timely warning," Christine said. "I hadn't told you, but I've acrush on that new sous-chef. The one who looks like Rock Hudson." Sheuncurled her. legs, reaching for her shoes. "Do we have more troubles?"He grinned, finding the sight and,bob电子体育unoccupied desk, used in daytime by one of the assistant managers. Hefound a listing for Mark Preyscott at a Garden District address and askedfor the number. The ringing tone continued for some time before a woman'svoice answered sleepily. Identifying himself, he announced, "I have amessage for Anna from Miss Preyscott."The voice, with a Deep South accent, said, "This is Anna. Is Miss Marshaall right?""She's all right, but she asked me to tell you that she will stay thenight at the hotel."The housekeeper's voice said, "Who did you say that was again?"Peter explained patiently. "Look," he said, "if you want to check, whydon't you call back? It's the St. Gregory, and ask for the assistantmanager's desk in the lobby."The woman, obviously relieved, said, "Yes, sir, I'll do that." In lessthan a minute they were reconnected. "It's all right," she said, "now Iknow who it is for sure. We worry about Miss Marsha a bit, what with herdaddy being away and all."Replacing the telephone, he found himself thinking Again about MarshaPreyscott. He decided he would have a talk with her tomorrow to find outjust what happened before the attempted rape occurred. The disorder inthe suite, for example, posed several unanswered questions.He was aware that Herbie Chandler had been glancing at him covertly fromthe bell captain's desk. Now, walking over to him, Peter said curtly, "Ithought I gave instructions about checking a disturbance on theeleventh."Chandler's weasel face framed innocent eyes. "But I went, Mr. Mac. Iwalked right around and everything was quiet."And so it had been, Herbie thought. In the end he had gone nervously tothe eleventh and, to his relief, whatever 46 Monday Eveningdisturbance there might have been earlier had ended by the time hearrived. Even better, on returning to the lobby, he learned that the twocall girls had left the hotel without detection."You couldn't have looked or listened very hard."Herbie Chandler shook his head obstinately. "All I can say is, I did whatyou asked, Mr. Mac. You said to go up, and I did, even though that isn'tour job.""Very well." Though instinct told him that the bell captain knew morethan he was saying, Peter decided not to press the point. "I'll be makingsome inquiries. Maybe I'll talk to you again."As he recrossed the lobby and entered an elevator, he was conscious ofbeing watched both by Herbie Chandler and the house officer, Ogilvie.This time he rode up one floor only, to the main mezzanine.Christine was waiting in his office. She had kicked off her shoes andcurled her feet under her in the upholstered leather chair she hadoccupied an hour and a half before. Her eyes were closed, her thoughtsfar away in time and distance. She summoned them back, looking up asPeter came in."Don't marry a hotel man," he told her. "There's never an end to iv,"It's a timely warning," Christine said. "I hadn't told you, but I've acrush on that new sous-chef. The one who looks like Rock Hudson." Sheuncurled her. legs, reaching for her shoes. "Do we have more troubles?"He grinned, finding the sight andunoccupied desk, used in daytime by one of the assistant managers. Hefound a listing for Mark Preyscott at a Garden District address and askedfor the number. The ringing tone continued for some time before a woman'svoice answered sleepily. Identifying himself, he announced, "I have amessage for Anna from Miss Preyscott."The voice, with a Deep South accent, said, "This is Anna. Is Miss Marshaall right?""She's all right, but she asked me to tell you that she will stay thenight at the hotel."The housekeeper's voice said, "Who did you say that was again?"Peter explained patiently. "Look," he said, "if you want to check, whydon't you call back? It's the St. Gregory, and ask for the assistantmanager's desk in the lobby."The woman, obviously relieved, said, "Yes, sir, I'll do that." In lessthan a minute they were reconnected. "It's all right," she said, "now Iknow who it is for sure. We worry about Miss Marsha a bit, what with herdaddy being away and all."Replacing the telephone, he found himself thinking Again about MarshaPreyscott. He decided he would have a talk with her tomorrow to find outjust what happened before the attempted rape occurred. The disorder inthe suite, for example, posed several unanswered questions.He was aware that Herbie Chandler had been glancing at him covertly fromthe bell captain's desk. Now, walking over to him, Peter said curtly, "Ithought I gave instructions about checking a disturbance on theeleventh."Chandler's weasel face framed innocent eyes. "But I went, Mr. Mac. Iwalked right around and everything was quiet."And so it had been, Herbie thought. In the end he had gone nervously tothe eleventh and, to his relief, whatever 46 Monday Eveningdisturbance there might have been earlier had ended by the time hearrived. Even better, on returning to the lobby, he learned that the twocall girls had left the hotel without detection."You couldn't have looked or listened very hard."Herbie Chandler shook his head obstinately. "All I can say is, I did whatyou asked, Mr. Mac. You said to go up, and I did, even though that isn'tour job.""Very well." Though instinct told him that the bell captain knew morethan he was saying, Peter decided not to press the point. "I'll be makingsome inquiries. Maybe I'll talk to you again."As he recrossed the lobby and entered an elevator, he was conscious ofbeing watched both by Herbie Chandler and the house officer, Ogilvie.This time he rode up one floor only, to the main mezzanine.Christine was waiting in his office. She had kicked off her shoes andcurled her feet under her in the upholstered leather chair she hadoccupied an hour and a half before. Her eyes were closed, her thoughtsfar away in time and distance. She summoned them back, looking up asPeter came in."Don't marry a hotel man," he told her. "There's never an end to iv,"It's a timely warning," Christine said. "I hadn't told you, but I've acrush on that new sous-chef. The one who looks like Rock Hudson." Sheuncurled her. legs, reaching for her shoes. "Do we have more troubles?"He grinned, finding the sight and,unoccupied desk, used in daytime by one of the assistant managers. Hefound a listing for Mark Preyscott at a Garden District address and askedfor the number. The ringing tone continued for some time before a woman'svoice answered sleepily. Identifying himself, he announced, "I have amessage for Anna from Miss Preyscott."The voice, with a Deep South accent, said, "This is Anna. Is Miss Marshaall right?""She's all right, but she asked me to tell you that she will stay thenight at the hotel."The housekeeper's voice said, "Who did you say that was again?"Peter explained patiently. "Look," he said, "if you want to check, whydon't you call back? It's the St. Gregory, and ask for the assistantmanager's desk in the lobby."The woman, obviously relieved, said, "Yes, sir, I'll do that." In lessthan a minute they were reconnected. "It's all right," she said, "now Iknow who it is for sure. We worry about Miss Marsha a bit, what with herdaddy being away and all."Replacing the telephone, he found himself thinking Again about MarshaPreyscott. He decided he would have a talk with her tomorrow to find outjust what happened before the attempted rape occurred. The disorder inthe suite, for example, posed several unanswered questions.He was aware that Herbie Chandler had been glancing at him covertly fromthe bell captain's desk. Now, walking over to him, Peter said curtly, "Ithought I gave instructions about checking a disturbance on theeleventh."Chandler's weasel face framed innocent eyes. "But I went, Mr. Mac. Iwalked right around and everything was quiet."And so it had been, Herbie thought. In the end he had gone nervously tothe eleventh and, to his relief, whatever 46 Monday Eveningdisturbance there might have been earlier had ended by the time hearrived. Even better, on returning to the lobby, he learned that the twocall girls had left the hotel without detection."You couldn't have looked or listened very hard."Herbie Chandler shook his head obstinately. "All I can say is, I did whatyou asked, Mr. Mac. You said to go up, and I did, even though that isn'tour job.""Very well." Though instinct told him that the bell captain knew morethan he was saying, Peter decided not to press the point. "I'll be makingsome inquiries. Maybe I'll talk to you again."As he recrossed the lobby and entered an elevator, he was conscious ofbeing watched both by Herbie Chandler and the house officer, Ogilvie.This time he rode up one floor only, to the main mezzanine.Christine was waiting in his office. She had kicked off her shoes andcurled her feet under her in the upholstered leather chair she hadoccupied an hour and a half before. Her eyes were closed, her thoughtsfar away in time and distance. She summoned them back, looking up asPeter came in."Don't marry a hotel man," he told her. "There's never an end to iv,"It's a timely warning," Christine said. "I hadn't told you, but I've acrush on that new sous-chef. The one who looks like Rock Hudson." Sheuncurled her. legs, reaching for her shoes. "Do we have more troubles?"He grinned, finding the sight and,unoccupied desk, used in daytime by one of the assistant managers. Hefound a listing for Mark Preyscott at a Garden District address and askedfor the number. The ringing tone continued for some time before a woman'svoice answered sleepily. Identifying himself, he announced, "I have amessage for Anna from Miss Preyscott."The voice, with a Deep South accent, said, "This is Anna. Is Miss Marshaall right?""She's all right, but she asked me to tell you that she will stay thenight at the hotel."The housekeeper's voice said, "Who did you say that was again?"Peter explained patiently. "Look," he said, "if you want to check, whydon't you call back? It's the St. Gregory, and ask for the assistantmanager's desk in the lobby."The woman, obviously relieved, said, "Yes, sir, I'll do that." In lessthan a minute they were reconnected. "It's all right," she said, "now Iknow who it is for sure. We worry about Miss Marsha a bit, what with herdaddy being away and all."Replacing the telephone, he found himself thinking Again about MarshaPreyscott. He decided he would have a talk with her tomorrow to find outjust what happened before the attempted rape occurred. The disorder inthe suite, for example, posed several unanswered questions.He was aware that Herbie Chandler had been glancing at him covertly fromthe bell captain's desk. Now, walking over to him, Peter said curtly, "Ithought I gave instructions about checking a disturbance on theeleventh."Chandler's weasel face framed innocent eyes. "But I went, Mr. Mac. Iwalked right around and everything was quiet."And so it had been, Herbie thought. In the end he had gone nervously tothe eleventh and, to his relief, whatever 46 Monday Eveningdisturbance there might have been earlier had ended by the time hearrived. Even better, on returning to the lobby, he learned that the twocall girls had left the hotel without detection."You couldn't have looked or listened very hard."Herbie Chandler shook his head obstinately. "All I can say is, I did whatyou asked, Mr. Mac. You said to go up, and I did, even though that isn'tour job.""Very well." Though instinct told him that the bell captain knew morethan he was saying, Peter decided not to press the point. "I'll be makingsome inquiries. Maybe I'll talk to you again."As he recrossed the lobby and entered an elevator, he was conscious ofbeing watched both by Herbie Chandler and the house officer, Ogilvie.This time he rode up one floor only, to the main mezzanine.Christine was waiting in his office. She had kicked off her shoes andcurled her feet under her in the upholstered leather chair she hadoccupied an hour and a half before. Her eyes were closed, her thoughtsfar away in time and distance. She summoned them back, looking up asPeter came in."Don't marry a hotel man," he told her. "There's never an end to iv,"It's a timely warning," Christine said. "I hadn't told you, but I've acrush on that new sous-chef. The one who looks like Rock Hudson." Sheuncurled her. legs, reaching for her shoes. "Do we have more troubles?"He grinned, finding the sight and

unoccupied desk, used in daytime by one of the assistant managers. Hefound a listing for Mark Preyscott at a Garden District address and askedfor the number. The ringing tone continued for some time before a woman'svoice answered sleepily. Identifying himself, he announced, "I have amessage for Anna from Miss Preyscott."The voice, with a Deep South accent, said, "This is Anna. Is Miss Marshaall right?""She's all right, but she asked me to tell you that she will stay thenight at the hotel."The housekeeper's voice said, "Who did you say that was again?"Peter explained patiently. "Look," he said, "if you want to check, whydon't you call back? It's the St. Gregory, and ask for the assistantmanager's desk in the lobby."The woman, obviously relieved, said, "Yes, sir, I'll do that." In lessthan a minute they were reconnected. "It's all right," she said, "now Iknow who it is for sure. We worry about Miss Marsha a bit, what with herdaddy being away and all."Replacing the telephone, he found himself thinking Again about MarshaPreyscott. He decided he would have a talk with her tomorrow to find outjust what happened before the attempted rape occurred. The disorder inthe suite, for example, posed several unanswered questions.He was aware that Herbie Chandler had been glancing at him covertly fromthe bell captain's desk. Now, walking over to him, Peter said curtly, "Ithought I gave instructions about checking a disturbance on theeleventh."Chandler's weasel face framed innocent eyes. "But I went, Mr. Mac. Iwalked right around and everything was quiet."And so it had been, Herbie thought. In the end he had gone nervously tothe eleventh and, to his relief, whatever 46 Monday Eveningdisturbance there might have been earlier had ended by the time hearrived. Even better, on returning to the lobby, he learned that the twocall girls had left the hotel without detection."You couldn't have looked or listened very hard."Herbie Chandler shook his head obstinately. "All I can say is, I did whatyou asked, Mr. Mac. You said to go up, and I did, even though that isn'tour job.""Very well." Though instinct told him that the bell captain knew morethan he was saying, Peter decided not to press the point. "I'll be makingsome inquiries. Maybe I'll talk to you again."As he recrossed the lobby and entered an elevator, he was conscious ofbeing watched both by Herbie Chandler and the house officer, Ogilvie.This time he rode up one floor only, to the main mezzanine.Christine was waiting in his office. She had kicked off her shoes andcurled her feet under her in the upholstered leather chair she hadoccupied an hour and a half before. Her eyes were closed, her thoughtsfar away in time and distance. She summoned them back, looking up asPeter came in."Don't marry a hotel man," he told her. "There's never an end to iv,"It's a timely warning," Christine said. "I hadn't told you, but I've acrush on that new sous-chef. The one who looks like Rock Hudson." Sheuncurled her. legs, reaching for her shoes. "Do we have more troubles?"He grinned, finding the sight and,bob手机版官网unoccupied desk, used in daytime by one of the assistant managers. Hefound a listing for Mark Preyscott at a Garden District address and askedfor the number. The ringing tone continued for some time before a woman'svoice answered sleepily. Identifying himself, he announced, "I have amessage for Anna from Miss Preyscott."The voice, with a Deep South accent, said, "This is Anna. Is Miss Marshaall right?""She's all right, but she asked me to tell you that she will stay thenight at the hotel."The housekeeper's voice said, "Who did you say that was again?"Peter explained patiently. "Look," he said, "if you want to check, whydon't you call back? It's the St. Gregory, and ask for the assistantmanager's desk in the lobby."The woman, obviously relieved, said, "Yes, sir, I'll do that." In lessthan a minute they were reconnected. "It's all right," she said, "now Iknow who it is for sure. We worry about Miss Marsha a bit, what with herdaddy being away and all."Replacing the telephone, he found himself thinking Again about MarshaPreyscott. He decided he would have a talk with her tomorrow to find outjust what happened before the attempted rape occurred. The disorder inthe suite, for example, posed several unanswered questions.He was aware that Herbie Chandler had been glancing at him covertly fromthe bell captain's desk. Now, walking over to him, Peter said curtly, "Ithought I gave instructions about checking a disturbance on theeleventh."Chandler's weasel face framed innocent eyes. "But I went, Mr. Mac. Iwalked right around and everything was quiet."And so it had been, Herbie thought. In the end he had gone nervously tothe eleventh and, to his relief, whatever 46 Monday Eveningdisturbance there might have been earlier had ended by the time hearrived. Even better, on returning to the lobby, he learned that the twocall girls had left the hotel without detection."You couldn't have looked or listened very hard."Herbie Chandler shook his head obstinately. "All I can say is, I did whatyou asked, Mr. Mac. You said to go up, and I did, even though that isn'tour job.""Very well." Though instinct told him that the bell captain knew morethan he was saying, Peter decided not to press the point. "I'll be makingsome inquiries. Maybe I'll talk to you again."As he recrossed the lobby and entered an elevator, he was conscious ofbeing watched both by Herbie Chandler and the house officer, Ogilvie.This time he rode up one floor only, to the main mezzanine.Christine was waiting in his office. She had kicked off her shoes andcurled her feet under her in the upholstered leather chair she hadoccupied an hour and a half before. Her eyes were closed, her thoughtsfar away in time and distance. She summoned them back, looking up asPeter came in."Don't marry a hotel man," he told her. "There's never an end to iv,"It's a timely warning," Christine said. "I hadn't told you, but I've acrush on that new sous-chef. The one who looks like Rock Hudson." Sheuncurled her. legs, reaching for her shoes. "Do we have more troubles?"He grinned, finding the sight and,unoccupied desk, used in daytime by one of the assistant managers. Hefound a listing for Mark Preyscott at a Garden District address and askedfor the number. The ringing tone continued for some time before a woman'svoice answered sleepily. Identifying himself, he announced, "I have amessage for Anna from Miss Preyscott."The voice, with a Deep South accent, said, "This is Anna. Is Miss Marshaall right?""She's all right, but she asked me to tell you that she will stay thenight at the hotel."The housekeeper's voice said, "Who did you say that was again?"Peter explained patiently. "Look," he said, "if you want to check, whydon't you call back? It's the St. Gregory, and ask for the assistantmanager's desk in the lobby."The woman, obviously relieved, said, "Yes, sir, I'll do that." In lessthan a minute they were reconnected. "It's all right," she said, "now Iknow who it is for sure. We worry about Miss Marsha a bit, what with herdaddy being away and all."Replacing the telephone, he found himself thinking Again about MarshaPreyscott. He decided he would have a talk with her tomorrow to find outjust what happened before the attempted rape occurred. The disorder inthe suite, for example, posed several unanswered questions.He was aware that Herbie Chandler had been glancing at him covertly fromthe bell captain's desk. Now, walking over to him, Peter said curtly, "Ithought I gave instructions about checking a disturbance on theeleventh."Chandler's weasel face framed innocent eyes. "But I went, Mr. Mac. Iwalked right around and everything was quiet."And so it had been, Herbie thought. In the end he had gone nervously tothe eleventh and, to his relief, whatever 46 Monday Eveningdisturbance there might have been earlier had ended by the time hearrived. Even better, on returning to the lobby, he learned that the twocall girls had left the hotel without detection."You couldn't have looked or listened very hard."Herbie Chandler shook his head obstinately. "All I can say is, I did whatyou asked, Mr. Mac. You said to go up, and I did, even though that isn'tour job.""Very well." Though instinct told him that the bell captain knew morethan he was saying, Peter decided not to press the point. "I'll be makingsome inquiries. Maybe I'll talk to you again."As he recrossed the lobby and entered an elevator, he was conscious ofbeing watched both by Herbie Chandler and the house officer, Ogilvie.This time he rode up one floor only, to the main mezzanine.Christine was waiting in his office. She had kicked off her shoes andcurled her feet under her in the upholstered leather chair she hadoccupied an hour and a half before. Her eyes were closed, her thoughtsfar away in time and distance. She summoned them back, looking up asPeter came in."Don't marry a hotel man," he told her. "There's never an end to iv,"It's a timely warning," Christine said. "I hadn't told you, but I've acrush on that new sous-chef. The one who looks like Rock Hudson." Sheuncurled her. legs, reaching for her shoes. "Do we have more troubles?"He grinned, finding the sight andbob体育网址

unoccupied desk, used in daytime by one of the assistant managers. Hefound a listing for Mark Preyscott at a Garden District address and askedfor the number. The ringing tone continued for some time before a woman'svoice answered sleepily. Identifying himself, he announced, "I have amessage for Anna from Miss Preyscott."The voice, with a Deep South accent, said, "This is Anna. Is Miss Marshaall right?""She's all right, but she asked me to tell you that she will stay thenight at the hotel."The housekeeper's voice said, "Who did you say that was again?"Peter explained patiently. "Look," he said, "if you want to check, whydon't you call back? It's the St. Gregory, and ask for the assistantmanager's desk in the lobby."The woman, obviously relieved, said, "Yes, sir, I'll do that." In lessthan a minute they were reconnected. "It's all right," she said, "now Iknow who it is for sure. We worry about Miss Marsha a bit, what with herdaddy being away and all."Replacing the telephone, he found himself thinking Again about MarshaPreyscott. He decided he would have a talk with her tomorrow to find outjust what happened before the attempted rape occurred. The disorder inthe suite, for example, posed several unanswered questions.He was aware that Herbie Chandler had been glancing at him covertly fromthe bell captain's desk. Now, walking over to him, Peter said curtly, "Ithought I gave instructions about checking a disturbance on theeleventh."Chandler's weasel face framed innocent eyes. "But I went, Mr. Mac. Iwalked right around and everything was quiet."And so it had been, Herbie thought. In the end he had gone nervously tothe eleventh and, to his relief, whatever 46 Monday Eveningdisturbance there might have been earlier had ended by the time hearrived. Even better, on returning to the lobby, he learned that the twocall girls had left the hotel without detection."You couldn't have looked or listened very hard."Herbie Chandler shook his head obstinately. "All I can say is, I did whatyou asked, Mr. Mac. You said to go up, and I did, even though that isn'tour job.""Very well." Though instinct told him that the bell captain knew morethan he was saying, Peter decided not to press the point. "I'll be makingsome inquiries. Maybe I'll talk to you again."As he recrossed the lobby and entered an elevator, he was conscious ofbeing watched both by Herbie Chandler and the house officer, Ogilvie.This time he rode up one floor only, to the main mezzanine.Christine was waiting in his office. She had kicked off her shoes andcurled her feet under her in the upholstered leather chair she hadoccupied an hour and a half before. Her eyes were closed, her thoughtsfar away in time and distance. She summoned them back, looking up asPeter came in."Don't marry a hotel man," he told her. "There's never an end to iv,"It's a timely warning," Christine said. "I hadn't told you, but I've acrush on that new sous-chef. The one who looks like Rock Hudson." Sheuncurled her. legs, reaching for her shoes. "Do we have more troubles?"He grinned, finding the sight and,bob棋牌安卓unoccupied desk, used in daytime by one of the assistant managers. Hefound a listing for Mark Preyscott at a Garden District address and askedfor the number. The ringing tone continued for some time before a woman'svoice answered sleepily. Identifying himself, he announced, "I have amessage for Anna from Miss Preyscott."The voice, with a Deep South accent, said, "This is Anna. Is Miss Marshaall right?""She's all right, but she asked me to tell you that she will stay thenight at the hotel."The housekeeper's voice said, "Who did you say that was again?"Peter explained patiently. "Look," he said, "if you want to check, whydon't you call back? It's the St. Gregory, and ask for the assistantmanager's desk in the lobby."The woman, obviously relieved, said, "Yes, sir, I'll do that." In lessthan a minute they were reconnected. "It's all right," she said, "now Iknow who it is for sure. We worry about Miss Marsha a bit, what with herdaddy being away and all."Replacing the telephone, he found himself thinking Again about MarshaPreyscott. He decided he would have a talk with her tomorrow to find outjust what happened before the attempted rape occurred. The disorder inthe suite, for example, posed several unanswered questions.He was aware that Herbie Chandler had been glancing at him covertly fromthe bell captain's desk. Now, walking over to him, Peter said curtly, "Ithought I gave instructions about checking a disturbance on theeleventh."Chandler's weasel face framed innocent eyes. "But I went, Mr. Mac. Iwalked right around and everything was quiet."And so it had been, Herbie thought. In the end he had gone nervously tothe eleventh and, to his relief, whatever 46 Monday Eveningdisturbance there might have been earlier had ended by the time hearrived. Even better, on returning to the lobby, he learned that the twocall girls had left the hotel without detection."You couldn't have looked or listened very hard."Herbie Chandler shook his head obstinately. "All I can say is, I did whatyou asked, Mr. Mac. You said to go up, and I did, even though that isn'tour job.""Very well." Though instinct told him that the bell captain knew morethan he was saying, Peter decided not to press the point. "I'll be makingsome inquiries. Maybe I'll talk to you again."As he recrossed the lobby and entered an elevator, he was conscious ofbeing watched both by Herbie Chandler and the house officer, Ogilvie.This time he rode up one floor only, to the main mezzanine.Christine was waiting in his office. She had kicked off her shoes andcurled her feet under her in the upholstered leather chair she hadoccupied an hour and a half before. Her eyes were closed, her thoughtsfar away in time and distance. She summoned them back, looking up asPeter came in."Don't marry a hotel man," he told her. "There's never an end to iv,"It's a timely warning," Christine said. "I hadn't told you, but I've acrush on that new sous-chef. The one who looks like Rock Hudson." Sheuncurled her. legs, reaching for her shoes. "Do we have more troubles?"He grinned, finding the sight and

unoccupied desk, used in daytime by one of the assistant managers. Hefound a listing for Mark Preyscott at a Garden District address and askedfor the number. The ringing tone continued for some time before a woman'svoice answered sleepily. Identifying himself, he announced, "I have amessage for Anna from Miss Preyscott."The voice, with a Deep South accent, said, "This is Anna. Is Miss Marshaall right?""She's all right, but she asked me to tell you that she will stay thenight at the hotel."The housekeeper's voice said, "Who did you say that was again?"Peter explained patiently. "Look," he said, "if you want to check, whydon't you call back? It's the St. Gregory, and ask for the assistantmanager's desk in the lobby."The woman, obviously relieved, said, "Yes, sir, I'll do that." In lessthan a minute they were reconnected. "It's all right," she said, "now Iknow who it is for sure. We worry about Miss Marsha a bit, what with herdaddy being away and all."Replacing the telephone, he found himself thinking Again about MarshaPreyscott. He decided he would have a talk with her tomorrow to find outjust what happened before the attempted rape occurred. The disorder inthe suite, for example, posed several unanswered questions.He was aware that Herbie Chandler had been glancing at him covertly fromthe bell captain's desk. Now, walking over to him, Peter said curtly, "Ithought I gave instructions about checking a disturbance on theeleventh."Chandler's weasel face framed innocent eyes. "But I went, Mr. Mac. Iwalked right around and everything was quiet."And so it had been, Herbie thought. In the end he had gone nervously tothe eleventh and, to his relief, whatever 46 Monday Eveningdisturbance there might have been earlier had ended by the time hearrived. Even better, on returning to the lobby, he learned that the twocall girls had left the hotel without detection."You couldn't have looked or listened very hard."Herbie Chandler shook his head obstinately. "All I can say is, I did whatyou asked, Mr. Mac. You said to go up, and I did, even though that isn'tour job.""Very well." Though instinct told him that the bell captain knew morethan he was saying, Peter decided not to press the point. "I'll be makingsome inquiries. Maybe I'll talk to you again."As he recrossed the lobby and entered an elevator, he was conscious ofbeing watched both by Herbie Chandler and the house officer, Ogilvie.This time he rode up one floor only, to the main mezzanine.Christine was waiting in his office. She had kicked off her shoes andcurled her feet under her in the upholstered leather chair she hadoccupied an hour and a half before. Her eyes were closed, her thoughtsfar away in time and distance. She summoned them back, looking up asPeter came in."Don't marry a hotel man," he told her. "There's never an end to iv,"It's a timely warning," Christine said. "I hadn't told you, but I've acrush on that new sous-chef. The one who looks like Rock Hudson." Sheuncurled her. legs, reaching for her shoes. "Do we have more troubles?"He grinned, finding the sight and,bob软件官方下载,bob网appunoccupied desk, used in daytime by one of the assistant managers. Hefound a listing for Mark Preyscott at a Garden District address and askedfor the number. The ringing tone continued for some time before a woman'svoice answered sleepily. Identifying himself, he announced, "I have amessage for Anna from Miss Preyscott."The voice, with a Deep South accent, said, "This is Anna. Is Miss Marshaall right?""She's all right, but she asked me to tell you that she will stay thenight at the hotel."The housekeeper's voice said, "Who did you say that was again?"Peter explained patiently. "Look," he said, "if you want to check, whydon't you call back? It's the St. Gregory, and ask for the assistantmanager's desk in the lobby."The woman, obviously relieved, said, "Yes, sir, I'll do that." In lessthan a minute they were reconnected. "It's all right," she said, "now Iknow who it is for sure. We worry about Miss Marsha a bit, what with herdaddy being away and all."Replacing the telephone, he found himself thinking Again about MarshaPreyscott. He decided he would have a talk with her tomorrow to find outjust what happened before the attempted rape occurred. The disorder inthe suite, for example, posed several unanswered questions.He was aware that Herbie Chandler had been glancing at him covertly fromthe bell captain's desk. Now, walking over to him, Peter said curtly, "Ithought I gave instructions about checking a disturbance on theeleventh."Chandler's weasel face framed innocent eyes. "But I went, Mr. Mac. Iwalked right around and everything was quiet."And so it had been, Herbie thought. In the end he had gone nervously tothe eleventh and, to his relief, whatever 46 Monday Eveningdisturbance there might have been earlier had ended by the time hearrived. Even better, on returning to the lobby, he learned that the twocall girls had left the hotel without detection."You couldn't have looked or listened very hard."Herbie Chandler shook his head obstinately. "All I can say is, I did whatyou asked, Mr. Mac. You said to go up, and I did, even though that isn'tour job.""Very well." Though instinct told him that the bell captain knew morethan he was saying, Peter decided not to press the point. "I'll be makingsome inquiries. Maybe I'll talk to you again."As he recrossed the lobby and entered an elevator, he was conscious ofbeing watched both by Herbie Chandler and the house officer, Ogilvie.This time he rode up one floor only, to the main mezzanine.Christine was waiting in his office. She had kicked off her shoes andcurled her feet under her in the upholstered leather chair she hadoccupied an hour and a half before. Her eyes were closed, her thoughtsfar away in time and distance. She summoned them back, looking up asPeter came in."Don't marry a hotel man," he told her. "There's never an end to iv,"It's a timely warning," Christine said. "I hadn't told you, but I've acrush on that new sous-chef. The one who looks like Rock Hudson." Sheuncurled her. legs, reaching for her shoes. "Do we have more troubles?"He grinned, finding the sight and

unoccupied desk, used in daytime by one of the assistant managers. Hefound a listing for Mark Preyscott at a Garden District address and askedfor the number. The ringing tone continued for some time before a woman'svoice answered sleepily. Identifying himself, he announced, "I have amessage for Anna from Miss Preyscott."The voice, with a Deep South accent, said, "This is Anna. Is Miss Marshaall right?""She's all right, but she asked me to tell you that she will stay thenight at the hotel."The housekeeper's voice said, "Who did you say that was again?"Peter explained patiently. "Look," he said, "if you want to check, whydon't you call back? It's the St. Gregory, and ask for the assistantmanager's desk in the lobby."The woman, obviously relieved, said, "Yes, sir, I'll do that." In lessthan a minute they were reconnected. "It's all right," she said, "now Iknow who it is for sure. We worry about Miss Marsha a bit, what with herdaddy being away and all."Replacing the telephone, he found himself thinking Again about MarshaPreyscott. He decided he would have a talk with her tomorrow to find outjust what happened before the attempted rape occurred. The disorder inthe suite, for example, posed several unanswered questions.He was aware that Herbie Chandler had been glancing at him covertly fromthe bell captain's desk. Now, walking over to him, Peter said curtly, "Ithought I gave instructions about checking a disturbance on theeleventh."Chandler's weasel face framed innocent eyes. "But I went, Mr. Mac. Iwalked right around and everything was quiet."And so it had been, Herbie thought. In the end he had gone nervously tothe eleventh and, to his relief, whatever 46 Monday Eveningdisturbance there might have been earlier had ended by the time hearrived. Even better, on returning to the lobby, he learned that the twocall girls had left the hotel without detection."You couldn't have looked or listened very hard."Herbie Chandler shook his head obstinately. "All I can say is, I did whatyou asked, Mr. Mac. You said to go up, and I did, even though that isn'tour job.""Very well." Though instinct told him that the bell captain knew morethan he was saying, Peter decided not to press the point. "I'll be makingsome inquiries. Maybe I'll talk to you again."As he recrossed the lobby and entered an elevator, he was conscious ofbeing watched both by Herbie Chandler and the house officer, Ogilvie.This time he rode up one floor only, to the main mezzanine.Christine was waiting in his office. She had kicked off her shoes andcurled her feet under her in the upholstered leather chair she hadoccupied an hour and a half before. Her eyes were closed, her thoughtsfar away in time and distance. She summoned them back, looking up asPeter came in."Don't marry a hotel man," he told her. "There's never an end to iv,"It's a timely warning," Christine said. "I hadn't told you, but I've acrush on that new sous-chef. The one who looks like Rock Hudson." Sheuncurled her. legs, reaching for her shoes. "Do we have more troubles?"He grinned, finding the sight and,bob综合体育平台怎么样unoccupied desk, used in daytime by one of the assistant managers. Hefound a listing for Mark Preyscott at a Garden District address and askedfor the number. The ringing tone continued for some time before a woman'svoice answered sleepily. Identifying himself, he announced, "I have amessage for Anna from Miss Preyscott."The voice, with a Deep South accent, said, "This is Anna. Is Miss Marshaall right?""She's all right, but she asked me to tell you that she will stay thenight at the hotel."The housekeeper's voice said, "Who did you say that was again?"Peter explained patiently. "Look," he said, "if you want to check, whydon't you call back? It's the St. Gregory, and ask for the assistantmanager's desk in the lobby."The woman, obviously relieved, said, "Yes, sir, I'll do that." In lessthan a minute they were reconnected. "It's all right," she said, "now Iknow who it is for sure. We worry about Miss Marsha a bit, what with herdaddy being away and all."Replacing the telephone, he found himself thinking Again about MarshaPreyscott. He decided he would have a talk with her tomorrow to find outjust what happened before the attempted rape occurred. The disorder inthe suite, for example, posed several unanswered questions.He was aware that Herbie Chandler had been glancing at him covertly fromthe bell captain's desk. Now, walking over to him, Peter said curtly, "Ithought I gave instructions about checking a disturbance on theeleventh."Chandler's weasel face framed innocent eyes. "But I went, Mr. Mac. Iwalked right around and everything was quiet."And so it had been, Herbie thought. In the end he had gone nervously tothe eleventh and, to his relief, whatever 46 Monday Eveningdisturbance there might have been earlier had ended by the time hearrived. Even better, on returning to the lobby, he learned that the twocall girls had left the hotel without detection."You couldn't have looked or listened very hard."Herbie Chandler shook his head obstinately. "All I can say is, I did whatyou asked, Mr. Mac. You said to go up, and I did, even though that isn'tour job.""Very well." Though instinct told him that the bell captain knew morethan he was saying, Peter decided not to press the point. "I'll be makingsome inquiries. Maybe I'll talk to you again."As he recrossed the lobby and entered an elevator, he was conscious ofbeing watched both by Herbie Chandler and the house officer, Ogilvie.This time he rode up one floor only, to the main mezzanine.Christine was waiting in his office. She had kicked off her shoes andcurled her feet under her in the upholstered leather chair she hadoccupied an hour and a half before. Her eyes were closed, her thoughtsfar away in time and distance. She summoned them back, looking up asPeter came in."Don't marry a hotel man," he told her. "There's never an end to iv,"It's a timely warning," Christine said. "I hadn't told you, but I've acrush on that new sous-chef. The one who looks like Rock Hudson." Sheuncurled her. legs, reaching for her shoes. "Do we have more troubles?"He grinned, finding the sight andbob体育平台下载手机版,unoccupied desk, used in daytime by one of the assistant managers. Hefound a listing for Mark Preyscott at a Garden District address and askedfor the number. The ringing tone continued for some time before a woman'svoice answered sleepily. Identifying himself, he announced, "I have amessage for Anna from Miss Preyscott."The voice, with a Deep South accent, said, "This is Anna. Is Miss Marshaall right?""She's all right, but she asked me to tell you that she will stay thenight at the hotel."The housekeeper's voice said, "Who did you say that was again?"Peter explained patiently. "Look," he said, "if you want to check, whydon't you call back? It's the St. Gregory, and ask for the assistantmanager's desk in the lobby."The woman, obviously relieved, said, "Yes, sir, I'll do that." In lessthan a minute they were reconnected. "It's all right," she said, "now Iknow who it is for sure. We worry about Miss Marsha a bit, what with herdaddy being away and all."Replacing the telephone, he found himself thinking Again about MarshaPreyscott. He decided he would have a talk with her tomorrow to find outjust what happened before the attempted rape occurred. The disorder inthe suite, for example, posed several unanswered questions.He was aware that Herbie Chandler had been glancing at him covertly fromthe bell captain's desk. Now, walking over to him, Peter said curtly, "Ithought I gave instructions about checking a disturbance on theeleventh."Chandler's weasel face framed innocent eyes. "But I went, Mr. Mac. Iwalked right around and everything was quiet."And so it had been, Herbie thought. In the end he had gone nervously tothe eleventh and, to his relief, whatever 46 Monday Eveningdisturbance there might have been earlier had ended by the time hearrived. Even better, on returning to the lobby, he learned that the twocall girls had left the hotel without detection."You couldn't have looked or listened very hard."Herbie Chandler shook his head obstinately. "All I can say is, I did whatyou asked, Mr. Mac. You said to go up, and I did, even though that isn'tour job.""Very well." Though instinct told him that the bell captain knew morethan he was saying, Peter decided not to press the point. "I'll be makingsome inquiries. Maybe I'll talk to you again."As he recrossed the lobby and entered an elevator, he was conscious ofbeing watched both by Herbie Chandler and the house officer, Ogilvie.This time he rode up one floor only, to the main mezzanine.Christine was waiting in his office. She had kicked off her shoes andcurled her feet under her in the upholstered leather chair she hadoccupied an hour and a half before. Her eyes were closed, her thoughtsfar away in time and distance. She summoned them back, looking up asPeter came in."Don't marry a hotel man," he told her. "There's never an end to iv,"It's a timely warning," Christine said. "I hadn't told you, but I've acrush on that new sous-chef. The one who looks like Rock Hudson." Sheuncurled her. legs, reaching for her shoes. "Do we have more troubles?"He grinned, finding the sight and

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