Her voice was low-pitched, almost whispering, indifferent. But I thought the intentness in her eyes
sharpened.
"I suppose," I answered, feigning something of irritation, "that is what any chance customer may do. But it
happens that this child is a favorite of mine and for her I want the best. Would it be too much trouble to
show me what other, and perhaps better, dolls you may have?"
Her eyes wavered for a moment. I had the thought that she was listening to some sound I could not hear.
Abruptly her manner lost its indifference, became gracious. And at that exact moment I felt other eyes
upon me, studying me, searching me. So strong was the impression that, involuntarily, I turned and
peered about the shop. There was no one except the girl and me. A door was at the counter's end, but it
was lightly closed. I shot a glance at the window to see whether McCann was staring in. No one was