amiable, unconscious reminder of her always exasperating and
tantalizing and humiliating indifference to him--"And as I'm going to a
grand dance to-night I simply had to wash my hair. Does that satisfy
you, Mr. Primmey?"

He hid the torment of his reopened wound and seated himself at the
center table. She returned to a chair in the window where the full force
of the afternoon sun would concentrate upon her hair. And he gazed spell
bound. He had always known that her hair was fine. He had never dreamed
it was like this. It was thick, it was fine and soft. In color, as the
sunbeams streamed upon it, it was all the shades of gold and all the
other beautiful shades between brown and red. It fell about her face,
about her neck, about her shoulders in a gorgeous veil. And her pure
white skin--It was an even more wonderful white below the line of her
collar--where he had never seen it before. Such exquisitely modeled
ears--such a delicate nose--and the curve of her cheeks--and the glory
of her eyes! He clinched his teeth and his hands, sat dumb with his gaze
down.

"How do you like my room?" she chattered on. "It's not so bad--really
quite comfortable--though I'm afraid I'll be cold when the weather
changes. But it's the best I can do. As it is, I don't see how I'm going
to make ends meet. I pay twelve of my fifteen for this room and two
meals. The rest goes for lunch and car fare. As soon as I have to get
clothes--" She broke off, laughing.

"Well," he said, "what then?"

"I'm sure I don't know," replied she carelessly. "Perhaps old Mr.
Branscombe'll give me a raise. Still, eighteen or twenty is the most I
could hope for--and that wouldn't mean enough for clothes."

She shook her head vigorously and her hair stood out yet more vividly
and the sunbeams seemed to go mad with joy as they danced over and under
and through it. He had ventured to glance up; again he hastily looked
down.

"You spoiled me," she went on. "Those few months over there in Jersey
City. It made _such_ a change in me, though I didn't realize it at the
time. You see, I hadn't known since I was a tiny little girl what it was
to live really decently, and so I was able to get along quite
contentedly. I didn't know any better." She made a wry face. "How I
loathe the canned and cold storage stuff I have to eat nowadays. And how
I do miss the beautiful room I had in that big house over there! and how
I miss Molly and Pat--and the garden--and doing as I ple