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She flew to the door, but returned the next minute, looking deeply disappointed, and bringing the intelligence that it was "only Mrs. E. She turned the gas up in her little sitting-room, and sank wearily into an easy chair. ‘Certainly I am not a nun. Then Gosse spoke again, answering the question in her mind. I think it inadvisable—I don’t want an intimacy to spring up between you and a man of that type. Dump popped his head into the cage. Aside from some loose coin and a trunk key, there was nothing in the pockets: no mail, no letter of credit, not even a tailor's label. Her heart ached; and that puzzled her. I might have known it.
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