"All I want is to be happy!" she said aloud, as if she were asking for something of such ordinary value that God would readily accord it to her because there was so little demand for the commodity. Trust you. He said daring things with a grace which made them irresistible, his eyes flashed back upon her some eloquent but silent appreciation of the change in her manner towards him. And now, when you come at last, you bring me this grandfather, and you dare to tell me I am like him. She trailed him to his apartment and a black door that read 727 in solemn gold-tone lettering. There, that sounds frightfully involved, doesn’t it, but perhaps you can make out what I mean. “You must have heard—have you—oh, tell me, won’t you?” she begged.
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