Mrs. Wilson Woodrow,
The Mystery of the Pink Pieces…
(1913)
“ Danvers Darrell, of course,” she replied. “Yes; it is odd, but, admitting her beauty and all that, she some way fails to attract me. There is something a bit self-conscious and overdone—I can hardly express just what it is.” “So!” she said. “Well, there is more than one kind of mystery; there is the mystery that is merely a fascinating reserve of nature, and—there is the mystery that has something to conceal.” ”
