It was a dull evening, and many of the tables remained unoccupied—save for the one waiting figure. The women, tired of looking towards the door, were smoking cigarettes, twirling their bracelets, yawning, and looking around the room. Many a mute invitation reached the two young men, but Holderness seemed to have lost his sociability. His face had grown harder and he seemed glad when their meal was over and they were free to depart. In the hall below they had to wait for their overcoats. Macheson strolled idly towards the entrance of another supper room on the ground floor, and looked in. An exclamation broke from his lips. He turned towards Holderness.
“You see the time,” he exclaimed, “and they are here! Those two!”
Holderness nodded gravely.
“The girl has been crying,” he said, “and there is an A B C on the table. It’s up to you, Victor. We may both have to take a hand in the game. No! I wouldn’t go in. Wait till they come out!”
They stood in the throng, jostled, cajoled, besought. At last the two rose and came towards the door. Letty had dried her eyes, but she looked still pale and terrified. Hurd, on the contrary, was flushed as though with wine. Macheson took her by the arm as she passed.
“Letty,” he said gravely, “have you missed your train?”
She gave a stifled cry and shrank back, when she saw who it was. However, she recovered herself quickly.
“Mr. Macheson!” she exclaimed. “How you startled me! I didn’t expect—to see you again.”
“About this train, Letty?” he repeated.
“Mr. Hurd’s watch stopped,” she declared, her eyes filling once more with tears. “He thought it was eleven o’clock,—and it was ten minutes past twelve. I don’t know what mother will say, I am sure.”