She's English, and a stranger over here, but she told me--when we were
friends--that she had letters of introduction to good people and that
she'd plenty of money till they found her a job. I can't bear to think
of her needing a 'job' when I--but I'm helpless! No doubt she's all
right, and getting along like a house on fire. She was the sort of
girl who would. Or maybe she's engaged by this time to some chap worth
ten of me. But I can't forget. I think of her by day, and I dream of
her by night."
"What do you see her doing in your dreams?" Eileen asked in a new
tone of voice. Not more interested, for she had shown deep interest
before, but with a quaver of excited eagerness.
"Dreams go by contraries, luckily," said Peter, "otherwise I should
worry. I always see her in some kind of trouble. If it isn't one
darned thing it's another. And I look for her by day when I'm up in
town. I think, what if I should see her face framed in some car
window? This afternoon I even looked for her in our store--though
feeling to me the way she did, it would be the _last_ place where
she'd go to spend a cent, if she associated the name of Rolls with
mine.
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