He took his hat and left her.
For a quarter of an hour she sat there, and then, looking up haggardly, stared about the room. She consulted the little chatelaine watch that dangled on her breast. Going up to a mirror, she attempted to straighten her hair, but her hands shook so that it was of little use. She was, even in that warm room, shivering. Then she rose and went down the carpeted passage, past luxurious paintings, past the compartments filled with giggling women and tipsy men, out into the night again.
The rain had stopped at last, but it was cold and gusty. Great detached masses of cloud pied the heavens, and in the clear spaces of sky the stars shone, twinkling brilliantly. She turned down Market Street.
Half-way to the ferry she met Dougal, almost falling into his arms before she recognized him.
"Well, I've found you at last!" he exclaimed. "Lord, how wet you are! Come right along home with me, and Elsie will give you some dry clothes."
"Oh, no, thank you, Dougal, but I can't, really! I've got to go to Oakland to-night."
"Nonsense! Wait, I'll get a cab."
"I can't go, honest I can't. Please don't tease me!"
"Well, I won't leave you, at any rate!" He put his arm through hers.
"You can come down to the ferry, if you want. I'm going to Oakland."