I've never encountered a book so badly written and edited. The grammar and punctuation are insane. I keep having to re-read paragraphs to make sense of them.
"Why not? But I'd be careful if I were you."
Her monosyllabic question was answered by another. "Do you believe in psychic phenomena?"
* * * * * * * *
"Yes, though I'm the world's worst driver."
He cleared his throat again, realising that her present financial situation did not run to cars.
He held out his hand: "Now remember, come to me for any advice you need. You have enough money for the present?"
Again the glimmer of wry mischief: "For the present. Thank you, Mr. Deoring"
* * * * * * * * *
Not immediately though; she decided to spend the rest of the week looking for a job.
Her lack of experience gave her little choice. Could she type? No. Shorthand? No. Was she good at figures? Most certainly no. She was offered , somewhat doubtfully, the post of matron at a boys' prep school, a job in an office dark and dingy, where she would have been little more than a tea-girl. She refused both and studied the "Wanted ads" in the papers. There were a great many, so many that she found herself in a kind of mental vortex, for none were suitable. Work in London, life in London, in a small bed-sitting room? The thought gave her claustrophobia.