I did not care—no woman really cares—to play the beggar maid to your King Cophetua. He let go of the girl’s arm. Her hair was the one part of her that did not exude the air of wealth. He first met her when he had caught her smoking behind the Joliet LaudrO-Matic one cool overcast day in late August. ” “I wonder,” he said, a trifle irrelevantly, “what the future has in store for you. ‘All so long ago and my memory ain’t what it was. As she drew off her skirt she felt something in the pocket, and remembered the letter which the commissionaire at the Carlton had given her. “I wonder,” said Ann Veronica at last, “if I am beautiful? I wonder if I shall ever shine like a light, like a translucent goddess?— “I wonder— “I suppose girls and women have prayed for this, have come to this—In Babylon, in Nineveh.
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