An expression of displeasure was audible in his reply, “You should have no trouble.”
“I ought to explain,” she continued, her slim hands clasped on shapely knees; “I mean that I can't get what I want.”
“So you prefer nothing?”
She nodded.
“That's different,” August Turnbull declared. “Anybody could see you're particular. Still, it's strange you haven't met—well, one that suited you.”
“What good would it do me—a school-teacher, and now a companion!”
“You might be admired for those very things.”
“Yes, by old ladies, male and female. Not men. There's just one attraction for them.”
“Well——”
She turned now and faced him with a suppressed bitter energy. “Clothes,” she said.