P.S. Eloise never pays the money back that she borrows from me-- "Will you tell me, Glorious Lutie, why I don't fall in love with Barty and why he doesn't fall in love with me? There's something awfully out about me. I don't think I've been in love more than six times; and the only serious one was the policeman on the beat who had a wife and five children." Providence again-- No. 3--The Coburns--nice, comfy, middle-aged folks; not rich; the best friends a girl could possibly have. No. 4-- But here she yawned loudly and relinquished the whole proceeding. That afternoon Susannah visited several employment agencies which dealt with office help. She answered all the inquiries that their questionnaires put to her; omitting any reference to the Carbonado Mining Company. It was late in the afternoon when she finished. She walked slowly homeward down the Avenue. Outside of her own door, she tried to decide whether she would go immediately to dinner or lie down first. A sudden fatigue forced decision in favor of a nap. She walked wearily up the first flight of stairs. Ahead, someone was ascending the second flight--a man. He turned down the hall. She followed. He stopped at the room opposite hers; fumbled unsuccessfully with the key. As she approached, she glanced casually in his direction. It was Byan. V Dear Spink: This is the kind of letter one never writes. But if you knew my mental chaos.... And I've got to tell somebody about the thing that I can speak about to nobody. If I don't.... What do you suppose I've done? I've bought a house. Yep-- I'm a property owner now. Of course you guess! Or do you guess? It's the Murray place. I could just make it and have enough left over for a year or two or three. But after that, Spink, I'm going to work because I'll have to. I suppose you're wondering why I did it. You're not puzzled half as much as I am; although in one way I know exactly why I did it. Perhaps I didn't do it at all. Anyway, I didn't do it of my own volition. Somebody made me. I'm going to tell you about that presently. Yes, it's all mine: beautiful old square-roomed house with its carved panelings and its generous Colonial fireplaces; its slender doors and amusing door-latches; an upstairs of ample bedrooms; an old garret with slave quarters; the downstairs with that little, charmingly incongruous, galleried, mid-Victorian addition; barn; lawn; flower-garden. And how beautiful I'm making that flower-garden you'll never suspect till you see it. But you won't see it for quite a while--I withdraw all my invitations to visit me. I don't want you now, Spink; although I never wanted you so much in my life. I'll want you later, I think. Of course it isn't from you personally--you beetle-eyed old scout--that I'm withdrawing my invitation; it's from any flesh-and-blood being. If you had an astral self-- I don't want anybody. I never wanted to be alone so much in my life. In a moment I'm going to tell you why.