dBooks desire

She could not understand her own indifference about
the future. She did not realize that it was wholly due
to Stanley Baird's offer. She was imagining she was
regarding that offer as something she might possibly
consider, but probably would not. She did not know
that her soul had seized upon it, had enfolded it and
would on no account let it go. It is the habit of our
secret selves thus to make decisions and await their own
good time for making us acquainted with them.
With her bag on the seat beside her she set out to
find a temporary lodging. Not until several hotels had
refused her admittance on the pretext that they were
``full up'' did she realize that a young woman alone is
an object of suspicion in New York. When a fourth
room-clerk expressed his polite regrets she looked him
straight in the eye and said:
``I understand. But I can't sleep in the street. You
must tell me where I can go.''
``Well, there's the Ripon over in Seventh Avenue,''
said he.
``Is it respectable?'' said she.


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