As to that, the temperature of the room did not admit of leisurely dressing.

She had no adequate name for the feeling of the water.

And her fingers grew so numb that she made what she considered a disgraceful matter of her attire.
Downstairs in the lobby another cheerful red fire burned in the grate.
How perfectly satisfying was an open fireplace! She thrust her numb hands almost into the blaze, and simply shook with the tingling pain that slowly warmed out of them.

The lobby was deserted.

A sign directed her to a dining room in the basement, where of the ham and eggs and strong coffee she managed to partake a little.