“Mr. Devlin ...?” she hazarded.
“Oh, you know Mr. Devlin?” The possibility seemed to fill the salesman with rare pleasure; it was a discovery, unexpected, delightful.
“I—I used to know him years ago,” Jeannette faltered.
“He’s a splendid man, isn’t he?” glowed the youth. “Wonderful personality,—a regular ‘good fellow.’ He’s made quite a record with the Parrott, you know. Unfortunately he’s out just now, but he’s expected. I’m sure he’ll be glad to know you called, and I’ll be very pleased to tell him. You didn’t mention.... May I ask the name?”
Jeannette hesitated. This was not the way she would have him hear of her.
“No,—I’ll call again; I’ll come in later. I’m—- I’m stopping at the Bellevue; it isn’t far.”
“Couldn’t I arrange a demonstration for you this afternoon? At any hour you say. I’d like to show you the way the Parrott rides,—just like a gazelle. I’ll have our driver come with the limousine, or perhaps you’d prefer the landaulet model.... You might like to pay some calls this afternoon; it would give you a chance to test the Parrott and see how you like it.... Ah, here’s Mr. Devlin!”
The heavy glass front door opened. Jeannette felt the cold air from the street. She gave a quick glance as she turned her back, her heart plunging. It was Martin all right, but what a changed and different Martin! So much older, so much larger than she remembered him! He wore a Derby hat and had a cigar.
The salesman had left her side and was communicating her presence to his employer. Jeannette stood with both hands pressed tightly against her heart and fought for self-possession.
She heard Martin speak. That voice ...! That voice ...! It suffocated her. An avalanche of memories and forgotten emotions swept down upon her.... He was coming! She even recognized his step!