Goodbye. ” “What do you want?” he asked, bluntly. ’ ‘How do you do?’ Gerald said pleasantly, stepping from the pillared portico and coming down the shallow stairway. . 7. He would sit in his inner office and compose conversations with her, penetrating, illuminating, and nearly conclusive—conversations that never proved to be of the slightest use at all with her when he met her face to face. ’ She halted, her pistol still held firm and straight, both hands gripping it, her expressive features at once determined and uncertain. 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. “What can one say?” she exclaimed.
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