Sales have dropped off in recent months.

A girl's love is half poetry, an unconscious preference till startled into self-knowledge. Isabella had been grateful for Mr. Glentworth's kindness—struck with his cultivated mind, and impressed with his distinguished appearance; so were all her sisters; but she alone was timid in expressing that admiration; in her alone had they inspired that feeling, which, shy, vague, and tender, is love.

She does not ask to see the dossier on this man before she goes, even though the co-worker has said that he has seen it, etc. The credibility of this conduct is another matter and is left as an exercise for the reader.

[…] and once again, in the twink of nothing, I was in another big high cab, all set to go hundreds of miles across the night, and was I happy!