She had a bittersweet fragrance, like dusty books and honeysuckle. “Some day you will be my wife, and it would not be well for either of us to remember that in these unhappy days you and I were separated. Then light footsteps became audible, descending the staircase with a certain deliberation and a faint rustle of skirts. Ought she to walk into some of these places and tell them what she could do? She hesitated at the window of a shipping-office in Cockspur Street and at the Army and Navy Stores, but decided that perhaps there would be some special and customary hour, and that it would be better for her to find this out before she made her attempt.
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