Could that have meant more than her friend had known?
Olwen threw another wondering, searching look into her glass.... Was it her imagination, or did she look prettier already than she had ever before seen herself? Oh....
She stood there, reflected; an image of Uncertainty hovering between belief and doubt. "Uncle wouldn't believe a word of it, I'm sure," she told herself. "I'm sure he thought he'd thrown the letter away. He may be quite right, of course. It sounds nonsense. Yet——"
("As if a charm had touched you," Mrs. Cartwright said, knowing nothing.)
"The writer of the letter said it was the result of years of research," pondered Olwen. "If he could give years, surely I can give just—just a try?"
She paused, hands clasped upon her breast.
"Shall I? Shall I?... Supposing I tried the effect of the Charm upon somebody else, first? Somebody here? There are at least two people besides myself in this hotel whom it could help...."
Then she thought defiantly, "The inventor said he shirked responsibility. Well, I wouldn't! If it doesn't do any good—well! There's no harm done! I——"
Another second's pause. Then the decision.
"I will. Yes! I will try it!"