“Where are you off to, in such a hurry?” he asked, “I’ve been trying to catch you up for a long time.”

“I’m going home.

“Still living up-town?”

“No; down in Washington Square.”

He couldn’t endure to let go of her hand, he couldn’t endure the thought of losing her; the tenderness and affection he had felt for her two years ago came back a hundredfold now. A tenderness that wrung his heart. To see her so shabby, so thin, so anxious, and still with her lovely, luminous grey eyes....

“Can’t I walk with you part of the way?” he asked.

“I was going in the ‘L’,” she said, doubtfully.

“But you’re not in a hurry?... Have you had lunch?”

“Oh, I couldn’t!”

“Nonsense! Come on!”