’ She turned, her eyes narrowed. “Yes. She located her foster family. ‘Damnation!’ Confused, he released her, and in an instant she had darted away and was running down the garden. “No thanks, Cathy. 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. She drifted northward from the Strand, and came on some queer and dingy quarters. A tinge of admiration rose in his breast. It is attested, you will observe, by the Reverend Mr. I’ve seen him, and he doesn’t a bit understand.
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