"I was a little afraid you would go away early," she said, "and that we could not bid you good-by quietly."
"Don't bid me good-by too quietly," he answered. "You will excuse my emotion, I am sure?"
"You have been in Washington," she said, "long enough to feel sorry to leave it."
He glanced at the clock.
"I have spent ten years here," he said; "one grows fond of a place, naturally."
"Yes," she replied.
Then she added:
"Your steamer sails"—
"On Wednesday," was his answer.
It was true that he was driven. He was so hard driven at this moment that he glanced furtively at the mirror, half fearing to find his face ashen.