The latter was too excited, too full of
some new adventure, to talk clearly or coherently. Always Carmencita
was adventuring, but what could she mean by demanding to know the name
of her sweetheart, and by saying she had found him and then lost him?
And why had she, Frances Barbour, told her as obediently as if their
positions were reversed and she the child instead of Carmencita?
Elbow on the table and chin in the palm of her hand, she tapped the
desk-pad with her pen and made small dots in the large circles she had
drawn on the paper, and slowly she wrote a name upon it.
What could Stephen Van Landing be doing in this part of the town? He
was one of the city's successful men, but he did not know his city.
Disagreeable sights and sounds had by him been hitherto avoided, and
in this section they were chiefly what was found. Why should he have
come to it? That he was selfish and absorbed in his own affairs, that
he was conventional and tradition--trained, was as true to-day,
perhaps, as when she had told him so three years ago, but had they
taught him nothing, these three years that were past? Did he still
think, still believe--
With a restless movement she turned in her chair, and her hands
twisted in her lap.
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