“Good-bye, Fräulein,” she said stiffly, shaking hands.
The door was shut with a slam—the light seemed to go down. Miriam glanced at it—half the dull green muslin shade had slipped over the gas-globe. The carriage seemed dark. The platform outside was very bright. Fräulein had disappeared. The train was high above the platform. Politely smiling Miriam scrambled to the window. The platform was moving, the large bright station moving away. Fräulein’s wide smile was creasing and caverning under her hat from which the veil was thrown back.
Standing at the window Miriam smiled sharply. Fräulein’s form flowed slowly away with the platform.
Groups passed by smiling and waving.
Miriam sat down.
She leaped up to lean from the window.
The platform had disappeared.
The Mayflower Press, Plymouth, England.
William Brendon & Son, Ltd.
Transcriber’s Notes
On [page 113], [“Marie”] was changed into “Clara” in later editions but preserved here.