She mounted the stairs of the theatrical agent’s office with very much less than her usual buoyancy, nor did she find much encouragement in the general appearance of the room into which she was shown. Love stories!… A sob rushed into her throat, and to smother it she buried her face in a pillow. ‘I am perfectly devoted to him, as well he knows. ’ ‘Don’t talk soft,’ begged Martha. No one spoke to her. You will wonder why he did not hold the pearls until Father returned. You fooled me this morning; but I overheard two old maids talking about you and the young man. He returned, sitting on the floor beside the couch adoring her and stroking her bare arms. After all, the Wastrel was in luck: he was alone.
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