I don’t think women need to trouble about political questions. “Idiot!” She raged inwardly while she walked along with that air of self-contained serenity that is proper to a young lady of nearly two-and-twenty under the eye of the world. If he stayed in the basement apartment as was his usual habit, she would have no problem. Was that it? Had she clothed this unhappy young man with glamour? Or was it because he was so alone? She could not get through the husks to the kernel of what really actuated her. But at length, there was a click, and with a swish, the panel of painted books swung outward from the wall. “Yes! I must! The thing is becoming a torture to me. She tossed her head, and, having no further words, moved toward the door. He did not pocket it, but sat hefting it lightly from hand to hand, watching the girl thoughtfully. I hope we may never find her again. I want you to be clear what you’re really and truly up to, anyhow.
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