ement were as a
barrier between him and all that was rude and coarse. If he glanced
about the place, taking notes in his turn of this and that, it was
covertly and quietly and without offence. His eyes passed across Daisy's
without resting or any show of interest. Once or twice he spoke quietly
to the girl who waited on him, his eyebrows slightly raised, as if he
were finding fault but without anger. For the first time in her life
Daisy had a sensation of jealousy; but in the pale nostalgic form,
rather than the yellow corrosive.

Though the interesting stranger had been one of the earliest arrivals,
he ate slowly, busied himself with important-looking papers out of his
coat-pockets, and was the last to go. He paid his bill, and if he looked
at Daisy while she made change it was in an absent-minded, uninterested
way.

She had an access of boldness. "I hope you liked your dinner," she said.

"I?" The young man came out of the clouds. "Oh, yes. Very nice." He
thanked her as courteously for his change as if his receiving any at all
was purely a matter for her discretion to decide, wished her good
afternoon, and went out.

The waitresses were gathered about the one who had served the stranger.
It seemed that he had made her a present of a dime. It was vaguely known
that up-town, in more favored restaurants, a system of tipping
prevailed; but in Linnevitch's this was the first instance in a long
history. The stranger's stock, as they say, went up by leaps and bounds.
Then, on removing the cloth from the table at which he had dined, there
was discovered a heart-shaped locket that resembled gold. The girls were
for opening it, and at least one ill-kept thumb-nail was painfully
broken over backward in the attempt. Daisy joined the group. She was
authoritative for the first time in her life.

"He wouldn't like us to open it," she said.

A dispute arose, presently a clamor; Linnevitch came in. There was a
silence.

Linnevitch examined the locket. "Trible-plate," he said judicially.
"Maybe there's a name and address inside." As the locket opened for his
strong thumb-nail, Daisy gave out a little sound as of pain. Linnevitch
stood looking into the locket, smiling.

"Only hair," he said presently, and closed the thing with a snap, "Put
that in the cash-drawer," he said, "until it is called for."

Daisy turned the key on the locket and wondered what color the hair
was. The stranger, of course, had a sweetheart, and of cour