She went about in a negligent November London that had become very dark and foggy and greasy and forbidding indeed, and tried to find that modest but independent employment she had so rashly assumed. “Good-bye,” he said earnestly. ” “Go!” She did not understand him at first, and then her heart began to beat very rapidly. There's a hundred pounds too much. She was a small blonde, not handsome, but with a flair for fashion demonstrated by her elegant chemise gown in the very latest Canterbury muslin, with its low décolletage barely concealed under a fine lawn handkerchief set about her shoulders, and decorated with a mauve satin sash at the waist. Immediately he was gone, she regretted that she had not followed. He had spoken impressively, and most likely Anna, had she reappeared, would have met with a fair reception. “I’ve been looking out for you,” he said.
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