There is a hint of sulkiness in the weaker lines of mouth and chin. The nose is perhaps rather sharp and prominent-but is that not the case with your golden-skinned Miss Jones? So you see, Maude, I am not unaware of her blemishes. To me she is beautiful despite them. I stood there and adored her at a distance until I dared do so no longer. I am loath to attract attention to myself and my feelings for this girl. As the patrons of the shop kept her busy, it was impossible for me to enter and engage her in conversation. How then was I to advance my cause? I walked away and took luncheon alone at the Grand Hotel. When it was over, I returned and walked past that window, which is to me almost the gate of paradise. Julie sat on a stool behind the counter, her head bowed as she read one of the books and the fine gold of her hair spilling loose round her face. You see? She is a young person of attainments.

She reads books. How many “shopgirls,” as you term them, indulge in such distractions? Yet still there were too many people in the room to permit me access to her. What then? I must wait until the time came for her to leave. Perhaps I would waylay her. Fall on my knees!

Beg a moment of her attention! But what if she should be escorted from the premises by some duenna? What if a young man who already aspired to remove Julie's knickers for her had a prior claim? The thought overcame me with misery. How could I, with my tormented sensibilities, set up in competition with a hobbledehoy whose brawny lust was to be vented upon this delicious creature? I withdrew and refreshed myself by a glass of Vichy water at the cafe next door. Much of the day was passed in this fashion until the premises closed their door to the public. I had great hopes. Julie would emerge in a moment and, so far as I could see, there was neither duenna nor hobbledehoy lying in wait for her. Still she did not appear. Then, a moment later, I saw her in the shop itself.