The Tracer of Lost Persons

or willing to answer you may dictate to me." The beauty of her modulated voice was scarcely a surprise-no woman who moved and carried herself as did this tall young girl in black and whi

saying it once

s though some vestige of intellect remained in him. He saw her pick up a pad and pencil; th

id hastily; "what were you

t spoken-that it was the subtle eloquence of her youth and loveliness that had app

the slip of paper in

DESCRIPT

or

ittle clamor of his pulses, the dazed sense of elation, alm

me," he said; "that would giv

en she crossed one knee over the other to support the pad, and, bending above it, lifted

he person you desire

ll, I fancy it

glanced at what she had written, flushed a little, rubbed out the "she is probably

she asked w

n, vexed, "I beg your pardon-yo

t question, you see"-she held out the blank toward

led in an explanation which threatened to involve him deeper than he desired. And, looking up, he saw the beautiful

t if she is (underlined) married he

marks' at the bottom of the page"-she held it out, pointin

e pad firmly on her rounded, yie

e a surmise. You know," he said earnestly, "how diffic

ould you not hazard a guess-jud

becoming involved again. "Would you, for practice,

nk that might help

to do so. Twenty times he forgot he was looking at her for any purpose except that of disinteres

" she suggested, her color risi

hteen? Jus

wood-and you said you

eighteen; but I dare say I was shy three years in

yes rested on his, the pencil hovered in hesitatio

wenty-one'?" he i

ot, Mr.

id you

't appear to know m

I do

looked at one a

omposure, "is: 'Date and place of birth?'

e to-some day. . . .

may be able to, some day.'

I-I'm not perfectly su

to the ne

igh

ix," he said, fasc

ai

oked up quickly; his eyes reverted to the window

continued after a

kish bloom-ivory and rose-" He was explaining volubly, when

ssly vague on that point-unless you desire to

ied. "Why, I am describing a wo

eady gone to th

ee

e laughing red mouth closed like a flower

not look like that sort of man; yet why was he watching her so closely, so

inue what, coincidence or not, wa

ing, pretending to a perplexity which was r

f the color of her eyes,

ried in profound thought. "Were they blue?" he murmured to himself aloud, "or were they brown? Blue begins with a b and brown begins with a b. I'm convinced that her

nd looked slig

, is that the color of her e

I can remember; but I

t be brown now," she observe

ious I never thought of th

briefly that it sounde

he girl, turning a

it to describe its color, shape, its sensiti

'Mouth,

ant you to

y, but scarcely germane to the record of a purely business transaction

Any poem is much too brie

g transition from vexation to amusement. For, after all, it could be only a coi

us-of-Milo-like'?" he inq

mean it for praise-I-don't think a

he of Milo had an ideal f

ing her rounded chin on one lovely whit

an

-tipped, slender yet so

prising his guilty eyes fixed on her hands, hastily dropped them and sat up