He drew out the check and the editorial letter. Too damned chickenhearted to confess to me he’d run off with the woman. She mounted the stairs of the theatrical agent’s office with very much less than her usual buoyancy, nor did she find much encouragement in the general appearance of the room into which she was shown. "I owe you nothing," he repeated, dully. . Her elbows were ready. There must be real Valjeans, else how could authors write about them? Supposing some day she met one of these astonishing creators, who could make one cry and laugh and forget, who could thrill one with love and anger and tenderness? Most of us have witnessed carnivals. She was the social leader of Morningside Park, and in her superficial and euphuistic way an extremely kind and pleasant woman. We married, and for a time we were happy. She thought of her costume in some detail and with considerable satisfaction, and particularly of a very jolly property dagger with large glass jewels in the handle, that reposed in a drawer in her room.
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