again.

"I'll just tell her the whole thing when we get on the train," she
promised herself. "If there is one thing I simply cannot stand it is a
secret that threatens to pop out every time one turns around," and with
that satisfying assurance Tavia was able to put aside her worry for the
time being, and was soon sitting comfortably beside Dorothy in the city
express, awake at last to the joys of holiday shopping and the prospect of
being able, after all, to get some gifts for dear ones, "and perhaps," she
pondered, "the old five dollars will stop haunting me."

But alas for the hope of forgetting evil! How strange it is that when one
is tempted all shame and all self-respect seem to vanish, only to return
with such gigantic power when the deed is done.

Tavia wanted to tell Dorothy what had become of the precious Christmas
money. In fact, she was on the very point of unburdening her mind when the
attention of both girls was directed to a frail little woman, who occupied
the seat directly opposite them.

She was dressed in black, and had the palest face, and such great hollow
eyes.

As if by some magnetic attraction both Tavia and Dorothy discovered that
this woman was watching them very closely. In fact, she had her eyes so
fastened on Dorothy's money, which Dorothy had been counting in her lap,
that it actually appeared the woman must be unconscious of her own
actions.

"Good thing eyes are not magnets," whispered Tavia, and Dorothy understood