It was still too dark for reading, but she could see well enough to note the number of the last page—fifty-six. “You ARE a female thing at bottom,” he admitted. Halters, each of which had fulfilled its destiny, formed the attraction of the next compartment; while a fourth was occupied by an array of implements of housebreaking almost innumerable, and utterly indescribable. No one would ever know what happened to him. Surely his calculated desire to sit near her meant that his attention had surely been brought from its normal diversions into her realm. “I will come—with pleasure,” she said, “if you will promise to treat me as a new acquaintance—not to refer to—Paris—at all. I dined with a friend and went to the ‘Unusual. ‘Indeed?’ Gerald grinned. She visited the corner that had been her own little garden—her forget-me-nots and candytuft had long since been elbowed into insignificance by weeds; she visited the raspberry-canes that had sheltered that first love affair with the little boy in velvet, and the greenhouse where she had been wont to read her secret letters. He recoiled from the sting. Earles asked sharply. " "Yes, yer hon'r," replied the chairman, taking the note.
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