“Yes, I will go,” she promised, with a queer little smile. "Good work. Fearful that she had given herself away, she sank back down onto her stool. I too can see it. And, if I can render you any service, you may command me. In any place her beauty would have been an uncommon thing. ” She replied. What was his problem, she thought to herself. He would raise her up once again, ply her with silks and jewels again, all of the accoutrements of the new generation: the cars, the toys, the restaurants, and the prestige. For a time she looked at no more apartments, and walked through gaunt and ill-cleaned streets, through the sordid under side of life, perplexed and troubled, ashamed of her previous obtuseness. "I am sorry.
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