The detective backed out slowly and closed the door without sound. Then the lady smiled and her radiance, even in the darkness, warmed Gerald unexpectedly. ‘And you, my girl, if you’d been born at all, would have been just what you think you are. Bitte!. She was a small blonde, not handsome, but with a flair for fashion demonstrated by her elegant chemise gown in the very latest Canterbury muslin, with its low décolletage barely concealed under a fine lawn handkerchief set about her shoulders, and decorated with a mauve satin sash at the waist. “I have made no arrangements as yet— none at all. Why? While the front of his mind was busy warning her not to fall into the hopeless miseries of underpaid teaching, and explaining his idea that for women of initiative, quite as much as for men, the world of business had by far the best chances, the back chambers of his brain were busy with the problem of that “Why?” His first idea as a man of the world was to explain her unrest by a lover, some secret or forbidden or impossible lover.
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