if you're good lookin'."

Lise was exalted, feverish, apparently possessed by some high secret;
her eyes shone, and when she crossed the room she whistled bars of
ragtime and executed mincing steps of the maxixe. Fumbling in the upper
drawer for a pair of white gloves (also new), she knocked off the corner
of the bureau her velvet bag; it opened as it struck the floor, and
out of it rolled a lilac vanity case and a yellow coin. Casting a
suspicious, lightning glance at Janet, she snatched up the vanity case
and covered the coin with her foot.

"Lock the doors!" she cried, with an hysteric giggle. Then removing her
foot she picked up the coin surreptitiously. To her amazement her sister
made no comment, did not seem to have taken in the significance of the
episode. Lise had expected a tempest of indignant, searching questions,
a "third degree," as she would have put it. She snapped the bag
together, drew on her gloves, and, when she was ready to leave, with
characteristic audacity crossed the room, taking her sister's face
between her hands and kissing her.

"Tell me your troubles, sweetheart!" she said--and did not wait to hear
them.

Janet was incapable of speech--nor could she have brought herself to
ask Lise whether or not the money had been earned at the Bagatelle, and
remained miraculously unspent. It was possible, but highly incredible.
And then, the vanity case and the new hat were to be accounted for! The
sight of the gold piece, indeed, had suddenly revived in Janet the queer
feeling of faintness, almost of nausea she had experienced after parting
with Lottie Myers. And by some untoward association she was reminded
of a conversation she had had with Ditmar on the Saturday afternoon
following their first Sunday excursion, when, on opening her pay
envelope, she had found twenty dollars.

"Are you sure I'm worth it?" she had demanded--and he had been quite
sure. He had added that she was worth more, much more, but that he could
not give her as yet, without the risk of comment, a sum commensurate
with the value of her services.... But now she asked herself again, was
she worth it? or was it merely--part of her price? Going to the wardrobe
and opening a drawer at the bottom she searched among her clothes until
she discovered the piece of tissue paper in which she had wrapped the
rose rescued from the cluster he had given her. The petals were dry, yet
they gave forth, still, a faint, reminiscent fragrance as she