She's my mealticket. Already the seed of a tender dream was stirring. ’ As if to bear her out, the door opened at this precise moment to admit Saling, who barely announced Captain Roding before the man himself strode into the room. ‘No, my poor guardian,’ Gerald mocked. She spent a very disagreeable afternoon and evening—it was raining fast outside, and she had very unwisely left her soundest pair of boots in the boothole of her father’s house in Morningside Park—thinking over the economic situation and planning a course of action. She reflected upon that with a thrill of terror that was also, somehow, in some faint remote way, gleeful. I have an engagement with a theatrical agent—I believe for the ‘Unusual’.
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