I want to put myself into your hands. She held out her arm straight before her, and turned her hand this way and that. He dared not go on. "Bravo," cried Sheppard, examining its contents, which proved to be a file, a chisel, two or three gimblets, and a piercer. But after all, what did it matter whether she had secrets or not? To him she was not a woman but a symbol; and one did not investigate the antecedents of symbols. The following morning found him in the doctor's waiting room, a black cigar turning unlighted in his teeth. She dumped him because she claimed she didn’t want him to go any farther. Prudence shook her head.
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