He first met her when he had caught her smoking behind the Joliet LaudrO-Matic one cool overcast day in late August. ’ ‘I do not tell you why,’ the lady uttered flatly. “Why should it matter?” he said. ’ ‘I imagine it must be a relief to you, after so lucky an escape. ’ ‘The what, miss?’ asked Kimble, frowning. Her white shirt was ridiculously utilitarian, but fitted in all the right places, he smirked. “Sydney is quite right, Miss Pellissier,” he said. Basically a kindly man but made cynical and derisive by sordid contacts, O'Higgins had almost forgotten that there was such a thing as unselfishness. We fixed that. If I could but——” To escape from her thoughts she began to undress, humming a light tune to herself, though her eyes were hot with unshed tears, and the sobs kept rising in her throat. Then she sat down—uninvited— and looked from one to the other curiously. . She noted the dank hair on his forehead, the sweat of revolting nature. He fended these things off from him with the rump of his fourth piece of cake.
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