Their eyes met smilingly, and the next instant the door closed quietly
between them.

Winston turned aside and entered the gloomy hotel office, feeling
mentally unsettled, undetermined in regard to his future conduct. Miss
Norvell had proven frankly intimate, delightfully cordial, yet
overshadowing it all there remained unquestionably a certain constraint
about both words and actions which continued to perplex and tantalize.
She had something in her past life to conceal; she did not even pretend
to deceive him in this regard, but rather held him off with deliberate
coolness. The very manner in which this had been accomplished merely
served to stimulate his eagerness to penetrate the mystery of her
reserve, and caused him to consider her henceforth as altogether
differing from other girls. She had become a problem, an enigma, which
he would try to solve; and her peculiar nature, baffling, changeable,
full of puzzling moods, served to fascinate his imagination, to invite
his dreaming. A strange thrill swept him when he caught a fleeting
glimpse of white skirt and well-turned ankle as she ran swiftly up the
steep staircase, yet, almost at the same instant, he returned to earth
with a sudden shock, facing Mooney, when the latter turned slowly away
from the window and sneeringly confronted him. The mottled face was
unpleasantly twisted, a half-smoked cigar tilted between his lips. An
instant the half-angry eyes of the two men met.

"Must have made a conquest, from all appearances," ventured the leading
man with a knowing wink. "Not so damned hard to catch on with, is she,
when the right man tries it?"

There was a swift, passionate blow, a crash among the overturned
chairs, and Mooney, dazed and trembling, gazed up from the floor at the