Passing thought. “Yet it is my last evening, and I think —if you are sure that you would like to have me—that I will risk it. 155 The ringing doorbell jarred her from her stupor. . " "I don't wonder at it," rejoined Gay. The young male, as she had actually seen him, had been of the sailor type, hard-bitten, primordial, ruthless. Perhaps the Parisian atmosphere had affected him. She had a vision of policemen, reproving magistrates, a crowded court, public disgrace. “What a hideous repertoire! If you are in earnest about wanting to earn money, why on earth don’t you accept an engagement here?” “An engagement?” she queried. He had not been successful as the world counted success; the fat bank-account, the filled waiting room of which he had once dreamed, had never materialized except in the smoke of his evening pipe.
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