Her face showed no answering gaiety. "You are going to amount to a great deal some day," she said. "I think very few of us in this world find ourselves," she added slowly.
"Perhaps some don't have to hunt so hard as others," observed Mr.
Heatherbloom.
"Don't they?" Her lips wore an odd little smile.
He threw back his shoulders. "Good night, now. You are very tired, I know."
She put out her hand. He took it—how soft and small and cold! The seconds were throbbing hours; he couldn't release it, at once. The little fingers grew warmer—warmer in his palm—their very pulsations seemed throbbing with his. Suddenly he dropped her hand.
"Good night," he said quickly.
He remembered he was nothing to her—that they would soon part for ever.
"Good night," she answered softly.
Then, silence.