"Wave good-by!" And then the hand with
the handkerchief went to her face, and she was weeping. I
think it was that old drama-thrill in her, dormant for so
long. But at that Heyl swung his hat above his head, three
times, like a schoolboy, and, grasping Ella's plump and
resisting arm, marched abruptly away.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The first week in June found her back in New York. That
month of absence had worked a subtle change. The two weeks
spent in crossing and recrossing had provided her with a
let-down that had been almost jarring in its completeness.
Everything competitive had seemed to fade away with the
receding shore, and to loom up again only when the skyline
became a thing of smoke-banks, spires, and shafts. She had
had only two weeks for the actual transaction of her
business. She must have been something of a revelation to
those Paris and Berlin manufacturers, accustomed though they
were to the brisk and irresistible methods of the American
business woman. She was, after all, absurdly young to be
talking in terms of millions, and she was amazingly well
dressed.
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