Page:The traitor; a story of the fall of the invisible empire (IA traitorstoryoffa00dixo).pdf/190

 It seemed cold, stiff and artificial, and the touch of perfume obvious and vulgar. It lacked the magnetism of personality. She had no power to convey this as yet in words. She must see him face to face, hold him with the deep charm of her great eyes, and enfold him with the spell of her beauty.

"I must see him," she cried—"or I'll fail! If I can only touch his hand, stand by his side and look into his face, I'll win."

She walked to the window and stood thoughtful a moment. Suddenly her eyes lighted.

"I'll do it! I'll go to his dingy office and ask for his services as any other client. Why not? His sign is a standing invitation to the world. How stupid of me to be wasting paper!"

In five minutes she was on the way. Her dress was a simple girlish pattern of green dimity. A quaint bonnet of the period, flaring wide and high in front, its tiny circular crown tilted, with ribbon tied under her dainty chin, made a picture no artist could pass without a sigh.

She stopped before the wrought-iron weatherbeaten sign which hung from the doorway leading up a flight of stairs to the young lawyer's office. Her heart fluttered with a moment of uncertainty as she felt herself standing on the threshold of the most daring step of her life. The plain