Mr. Powers stood beside her.
“You’re very wet,” he said.
“Oh! No, thank you!” replied Miss Smith politely.
“Don’t mention it,” said he, equally polite; “but you really are. If I were you—”
“But I—I can’t find the people I’m with!” cried Miss Smith, with something like a sob.
She was too miserable to realize that she was actually talking to a strange man. She didn’t even glance at him. She didn’t care what he looked like. He had an agreeable and steady sort of voice, however. Anyhow, the moment had come when she had to tell some one.
“I’ve looked and looked—and I can’t find them!” she went on.
Now some people pretend, out of pompousness and self-importance, never to be surprised by anything, and Mr. Patterson was one of these. If you told him of anything amazing, he would say:
“Ah! Is that so? Well, I’m not at all surprised.”
Some people really are not surprised by anything, because they know what an astounding world this is; and Mr. Powers was one of these. So he said, in a quiet and friendly way: