|
|
WHEN Esther rang the bell of Numero 86 Route de Grasse, she felt within her that pleasant sort of stage-friffht—a mixture of dread and exhilaration—which one o is apt to experience when venturing into the unknown. The thrill might be out of all proportion to the prosaic character of her mission—for what is there exciting in applying for a post as a doctor's assistant ?—yet there was no gainsaying the fact that when this door confronting her opened, anything, everything, might happen. That is the way Youth regards things. " Opportunity—a door open in front of one." So in earlier years her Latin teacher had dilated on the inner meaning of the word. Esther smiled reminiscently and congratulated herself that she was not going tamely back to her work in America, choosing instead, when she found a door open, to enter and explore on the other side. Numero 86 was a conventional and dignified villa, non-committal in appearance, like a hundred others. |