that had seen a heavy, handsome girl stride into Mrs. Upper's hotel and
ask for work, to believe that she was here. Morena clapped his hands in
the Eastern fashion of summons, and Jane looked toward him. "Oh," she
said, "I'm glad you came." He strolled in and stood beside her shaking
his head. "I didn't like the look of you this afternoon, my dear."
"Well, sir," said Jane, "I don't like the look of you either." She
smiled her slow, unself-conscious smile. "You sit down and I'll make tea
for you." He knew that thought for some one else was the best tonic for
her mood, so he dropped, with his usual limp grace, into the nearest
chair, put back his head and half-closed his eyes. "I'm used up," he
said; "I haven't a word--not one to throw at a dog." "Please don't throw
one at me, then. I surely wouldn't take it as a compliment." She made
the tea gravely, as absorbed in the work as a little girl who makes tea
for her dolls. She brought him his cup and went back to her place and

again her face settled into that look. She had evidently

<<inline: tetradecyl.jpg>>

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