will try at three; and if you do not want me then, only tell me when you may.
On the other side he had written, "I liked these because they reminded me of the moccasin flower of the north. Do you know it, blossoming in the spring in the marshes?"
"I know it," Ethel said aloud to herself in answer, holding the soft petals against her cheek; she thought she had never known the joy of flowers before; and yet, with dismay, she could not help counting their cost to her lover. She wished he had noted where he was staying; but he had not; she thought of him, sparing expenditure for himself, having breakfast at some cheap lunch counter. She wished she could send for him at once to share with her the food upon her tray.
When she arose, it was hard to lay aside the dress she had worn in the evening when she was in his arms. At moments she flushed and then was bold and unashamed to acknowledge how physically she desired him; she thought of his coloring and the texture of his cheek and hands; the feel of his arms; the contours of his body; and his impulsive strength; and she knew, much as she longed even for sound of his voice over the telephone or for sight of him in the street, she could never be satisfied to be with him again and have less than last night.
"I love you!" she whispered.
The knowledge that the front doorbell had rung and that some one was being admitted, set her to quivering so that she was powerless, for a moment, to fasten hooks and eyes; when a maid knocked at her door, she answered joyously. "Some one for me?"
