58 \"Why will you not touch me?\" She cried out, sitting up, her head in her hands. Julian had been working his way through college at a factory and was close to graduation. The inner apartment was rather gracefully furnished with a thick, fine Turkish carpet, a good brass fender, a fine old bureau, and on the walls were engravings of two young girls’ heads by Greuze, and of some modern picture of boys bathing in a sunlit pool. Nothing seemed to be amiss. Accordingly, having given Wood such directions as he thought necessary for his guidance, and received a handsome gratuity in return for his services, he departed.
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