“Who?” he said, his own voice shaking—like his hand.
“Mary.”
He responded with two hushed and incredulous words: “IS IT?”
There was a little thrill of pathetic half-laughter in the instrument. “Bibbs—I wanted to—just to see if you—”
“Yes—Mary?”
“I was looking when you were so nearly run over. I saw it, Bibbs. They said you hadn't been hurt, they thought, but I wanted to know for myself.”
“No, no, I wasn't hurt at all—Mary. It was father who came nearer it. He saved me.”
“Yes, I saw; but you had fallen. I couldn't get through the crowd until you had gone. And I wanted to KNOW.”
“Mary—would you—have minded?” he said.
There was a long interval before she answered.