She still had her letter of credit. “Gods,” she said, at last, “I’ve done it this time!” “Well!” She took up the neat morocco purse, opened it, and examined the contents. I suppose because it IS the chief thing in life. Honestly, I never did. Behind every one of these myriad fronts she passed there must be a career or careers. In the distance a bell clanged, and chattering broke out in the doorway as several nuns came crowding in. “She means to go. Yet he stays. ” She wondered how much history she could reinvent before losing track of her own lies. Then he put the paper by.
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