She dined in a little restaurant in the Rue Jacob where, calling for an evening paper, she saw that a new play of H. R. Lenormand was being performed at the Odéon, near at hand. She was not particularly “up” in the French theater, but she had heard of Lenormand from one of her medical friends in London, who had taken up psycho-analysis.
“Pretty useful point of view,” he had told her. “He dramatizes the subconscious, you know. It’s like a lot of complexes walking about; very chatty they are, too, and most informing.”
She bought a fauteuil and was soon watching a performance of “La Dent Rouge.” Now and then she wondered at the chance that had brought her to that particular place on that particular evening. For it seemed curiously to fit in with her present adventure. It might even be taken
