The police would watch all those who entered or left the station, but never would they think to search a carriage into which no one had been seen to enter. But oh, what a frightful predicament she was in! All she possessed in the world was a half-crown, scarce enough for her breakfast. And if she did not find her governess at once she would be lost utterly, and in Dresden! She choked back the sob. Why couldn't they let her be? She didn't want to marry any one—that is, just yet. She didn't want her wings clipped, before she had learned what a fine thing it was to fly. She was young.
"Oh!"
"What is it?" she said, turning.
"I have something of yours," answered Max, fumbling in his pocket, grateful for some excuse to break the silence. "You dropped your purse this morning. Permit me to return it to you. I hadn't the remotest idea how I was going to return it. In truth, I had just made up my mind to keep it as a souvenir."
She literally snatched it from his extended hand.
"My purse! My purse! And I thought it was gone for ever!" hugging it hysterically to her heart. She feverishly tried to unlatch the clasps.
"You need not open it," he said quietly, even proudly, "I had not thought of looking into it, even to prove your identity."
"Pardon! I did not think. I was so crazy to see it again." She laid the purse beside her. "You see," with an hysterical catch in her voice, "all the money I had in the world was in that purse, and I was running away without any money, and only Heaven knows what misfortunes were about to befall me. There were, and are, a thousand crowns in the purse."
"A thousand crowns?"
"In bank-notes. Thank you, thank you! I am so happy!"—clasping her hands. Then, with a smile as warm as the summer's sun, she added: "You may—come and sit close beside me. You may even smoke."