CHAPTER II
DICK HASELRIDGE
ON this Christmas Eve d**k Haselridge was picking her way swiftly through the holiday crowd, but her glance roved alertly over the scene, and everything she saw seemed to please her. The cries of the shivering toy venders on the sidewalk, and the clashing of gongs on the overcrowded cable cars that passed, came to her ears with a note of merriment that must have been assumed especially for Christmas- tide. To walk rapidly was no easy matter, for the motion of the crowd was irregular ; now fast, across some gusty, ill-lighted spot, now slowing to a mere stroll, and now ceasing alto- gether before a particularly attractive shop window. The wind, too, had acquired a mis- chievous trick of pouncing upon you from an always unexpected direction. d**k scorned to wear
