They were sliding down a runway and drew up now alongside a curb. A redcap, wild for fee, swung open the cab door, immediately confiscating all luggage.
"No, no, not that! You carry that box, Herm. It's the padded underjacket for grandma. Tell her I—I sent it to her, Herm—with—with love."
"Yes, Sadie."
She was frankly crying now, edging her way through the crowd, running in little quick steps to match her pace to his.
At the trainside, during the business of ticket inspection, she stood by, her palm pat against her mouth and tears galumphing down. With a face that stood out whitely in the gaseous fog, Mr. Loeb fumbled for the red slip of his berth reservation.
"Well, Sadie girl, three minutes more and—"
"Oh—oh, Herm!"
"If you feel as bad as that, it's not too late, Sadie. I—you—it takes a wise little girlie to change her mind. Eh? Eh?"
"No—no, Herm, I—"
He clenched her arm suddenly and tightly.