She did not look up at the giant Hands with their blazing rings, as she had looked at first, half admiring, half awed. Their gesture now seemed greedy. They were trying to "grab the whole sky," as the lion tamer said. Rather would one hurry to escape from under them, and go where the Hands of Peter Rolls could not reach.
It was exquisite in the park, and she was thinking how a delicate, floating blue curtain appeared to shut her away for a little while from all the harshness of life, when a small and singularly silent automobile glided by. A lamp showed her the forms of two men in the open car, one in front, who drove, and one behind, who sat with arms folded.
"How heavenly to have the air and lean back restfully without needing to walk," thought tired Win.
She was envying the comfortable figure with its arms folded when the little car turned and, to her astonishment, drew up close beside her. Involuntarily she stopped; then, as one of the men jumped out, she regained her presence of mind and walked on at top speed.
The man strode along after her, however, and spoke.
"
Don't you remember me? That's very unkind. You might wait a minute, anyhow, and let me remind you where we met. I recognized you as I went by, that's why I came back."
Wondering if it could be possible that they had met, Win ventured a glance at the face on a level with her own. She knew instantly that never had she seen it before.
"You're mistaken," she said. "I don't know you. Please go."
"Logan is my name," he persisted. "Jim Logan. Now don't you remember? But you didn't tell me your name that other time."