He was clean shaven. The lines were hard about his mouth, cutting
character--the chin was strong, the jaw well-moulded. It was not a
type of face that belonged to the class in which she moved. These
men were of the unreliable type--some definite weakness somewhere
in every face. So far as she could see in that one sudden glance,
this man had none. His face dominated, his voice too. The hardness
of his features carried with it a sense of cruelty; but a woman is
seldom thwarted by that.
Then returned again the spirit of adventure. By the peculiar
inconsequence of his conversation, he had succeeded in driving
timidity from her. No man whom she knew would, in the first moments
of acquaintance, have spoken as he did. The fact of that alone was
an interest in itself. This was an adventure. Again she thrilled to
it. The unexpectedness of the whole affair, this riding homewards
on the top of a 'bus with a man who had come out of nowhere into her
life--even if it were only for a few moments. Would not many another
girl in her position be delighted with the experience? That thought
warmed her to a greater appreciation of the situation.
But why had he been waiting outside the door of the office? Why had
he followed her? How had he known that she was employed in the
exacting services of Bonsfield & Co.
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