‘They cannot help it. He grabbed her legs and threw the covers from the bed. What of it?” There was a shout of laughter. Curiosity held her by one hand, urging her to recklessness, and caution held her by the other. She thought of her costume in some detail and with considerable satisfaction, and particularly of a very jolly property dagger with large glass jewels in the handle, that reposed in a drawer in her room. If he died, here in this hotel, who would care? Or if she died, who would care? A queer desire blossomed in her heart: to go to him, urge him to see the folly of trying to forget. How long he sat there, reeling off this drivel, he never knew. “It isn’t quite that we’re toys. . "I have baffled you. She had in her suitcase a small scrapbook, only a few pages, what little information she had gathered on him through the years.
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