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 ! She's as deep in it as either of us, only she happens to be sentimental, and an outsider on this deal. She won't blab. Besides, you're ruined anyway, as far as New York's concerned. … Come along. That's finished: she won't send any important messages over that wire to-night, I guess. …"

"My dear young lady!" Rising and throwing the overcoat over his arm, he waved his hat at her in sardonic courtesy. "I can't say it has been a pleasure to know you but—you have made it interesting, I admit. And I bid you a very good night. The charwoman will let you out when she comes to clean up in the morning. Adieu, my dear!"

The little man bustled after him, bleating and fidgeting; and the lock clicked.

She was alone … utterly and forlornly alone … and had lost … lost all, all that she had prized and hoped to win, even … even him. …

She raised fluttering, impotent white hands to her temples, trying to collect herself.