But at last she fell asleep, and
dawn of a clear spring day awakened her.
She ate her breakfast, and set forth on a shopping tour. To such
advantage did she put two of the hundred-dollar bills that by noon she
was arrayed in a semi-tailored suit of gray, spring hat, shoes, and
gloves to match. She felt once more at ease, less conscious that
people stared at her frayed and curious habiliments. With a complete
outfit of lingerie purchased, and a trunk in which to store it
forwarded to her hotel, her immediate activity was at an end, and she
had time to think of her next move.
And, brought face to face with that, she found herself at something of
a loss. She had no desire to go back to Cariboo Meadows, even to get
what few personal treasures she had left behind. Cariboo Meadows was
wiped off the slate as far as she was concerned. Nevertheless, she
must make her way. Somehow she must find a means to return the unused
portion of the--to her--enormous sum Roaring Bill had placed in her
hands. She must make her own living. The question that troubled her
was: How, and where? She had her trade at her finger ends, and the
storied office buildings of Vancouver assured her that any efficient
stenographer could find work.
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