She found herself trying on the baubles he brought home, placing the silver rings upon her slim fingers, knowing that he would take up her hand and kiss it. To find the true father at the expense of the beautiful fairy tale Ruth had woven around the woman in the locket was an intolerable thought. She trailed him to his apartment and a black door that read 727 in solemn gold-tone lettering. A woman indeed this to love and be loved, beautiful, graceful, gay. Take care of the old clothesman, and leave the rest to me. What hotel should she go to? If she told a cabman to drive to an hotel, any hotel, what would he do—or say? He might drive to something dreadfully expensive, and not at all the quiet sort of thing she required.
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