dBooks desire

She finished dressing and
went out into the huge, grandly and gaudily furnished
salon. Harding was at a carved old-gold and lacquer
desk, writing. As she entered he rose and bowed.
``Won't you please call one of the servants?'' said
she. ``I want my coffee. I guess the bell in my room
is broken. My maid doesn't answer.''
``No, the bell is not broken,'' said Harding.
She looked at him questioningly.
``The general has issued an order that nothing is
to be done in this apartment, and nothing served, unless
he personally authorizes it.''
Mildred paled, drew herself up in what seemed a
gesture of haughtiness but was an effort to muster her
strength. To save herself from the humiliation of a
breakdown before him, she hastily retreated by the way
she had come. After perhaps a quarter of an hour she
reappeared in the salon; she was now dressed for the
street. Harding looked up from his writing, rose and
bowed gravely. Said she:
``I am going out for a walk. I'll be back in an hour
or so.


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