Stanley and his sister into a taxicab, and had waved an amiable farewell from the pavement steps. And when, at length, it was struck, he wanted energy to pursue his advantages. ‘At me,’ she uttered, holding her own pistol high and aiming it steadily. Everything was fresh and bright, from the kindly manners of the Frutigen cobbler, who hammered mountain nails into her boots, to the unfamiliar wild flowers that spangled the wayside. After all, he had the means of setting this tormenting doubt at rest. He had diverged only a little from the truth when he said that his chief interest in life was women.
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