Her head was downcast as she studied the museum-like exhibits of various dusts on the resilient tile flooring. These little squares of coloured paper interested her mightily—hotel labels. This was unscrupulous, he admitted, because he had no intention of following through on the seductive promise in his conduct. Then he stepped briskly to his feet and bent over the wounded man. If she had any idea at all, it was something she dimly recalled from her books: something celestially beautiful, with a happy ending. His name is Taber?" "Howard Taber. At the back of her mind there seemed always one irrelevant qualifying spectator whose presence she sought to disregard.
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