“And you cared?” he asked eagerly.
She was fast recovering herself now.
“Well, it wouldn’t be unnatural to care, would it, if you expected to find a friend all run over?”
“And, now that you find I’m not a mangled corpse, you don’t care at all.”
Of course he wouldn’t choose to be a corpse, because he would not have been able to enjoy the situation; but, on the whole, he was sorry that he did not have a mangled hand or something to show. Evidently his whole hand did not interest her––she had not yet offered to take it.
“How in the world did you get here?” she demanded.
“I took the train.”
“But––has anything happened?”
“Lots of things have happened,” he said. “That’s what I want to tell you about.”