A philosophical barmaid was certainly a novelty.

That Gretchen was philosophical I had learned in the rose gardens.

That she was also used to giving commands I had learned in the onion patch.

Hitherto I had held the onion in contempt; already I had begun to respect it.
Above all, Gretchen was a mystery, the most alluring kind of mystery--a woman who was not what she seemed.

How we men love mysteries, which are given the outward semblance of a Diana or a Venus! By and by, my journalistic instinct awoke.