When he saw her coming again, threading her way through the crowd and almost without contact, he so maneuvered that she drifted naturally into the little bay promptly vacated for her accommodation. Instantly he was standing directly in front, hat in hand, arresting her departure:
“Beautiful, just a moment, please,” he said, smiling down, “I saw you crossing the street and followed you here. When you leave I shall not follow again. Listen; what I am asking is that you will take my card and have your father, or somebody, inquire about me of one of the bank cashiers on the corner, and then write me your address, won’t you? This isn’t regular, I know,” he continued with increase of vocal momentum, “but it is necessary—absolutely necessary. I have searched and waited for you all my life, and if I lose you now it may be forever.” The girl had drawn back a little and was looking into his face with wonder but without alarm. The Dubignon eyes and smile were irresistible. Nevertheless, now that he had spoken—words altogether different from the formal ones planned—King became self-conscious and troubled. Something jarred. Perhaps it was the twentieth century or the ten-cent store. Besides, he was pointing a piece of cardboard at her in, what must have seemed, a very absurd way. She felt instantly his embarrassment, and women of all ages gain composure when men in their presence lose it. The instinctive response of eyes and lips, vibrant life to impetuous youth, was checked and a tiny, perpendicular line divided her brows:
“Are you quite sane?” she began, her voice reduced almost to a whisper—he thanked God for that. “Stand aside, please, or shall I send for the manager?”
“Perfectly sane,” he said, moving aside, but still holding out the card. “You will not send for anyone, because now the way is open. But all the same, I wish, awfully, you would take my card and when you get home decide. Won’t you, please? It’s just a little, lonesome card,” he added, whimsically. The girl hesitated, questioning him with the wonderful gentian eyes, into which, now of a sudden, came a fixed light. A white wonder paled her face for a fleeting instant, and she moved a step nearer. Doubtingly, the gesture clearly an unconscious one, her hand touched his arm.
“Have I ever seen you before? Do you know my name?” He shook his head, smiling happily. She watched the smile with open interest.
“Think again!” she urged, earnestly. He was deeply troubled. He wished that he might say he had met her as a summer girl somewhere, but he could not. What he did say was:
“It may strike you as absurd, but I have only seen you in a dream—a long dream!” She smiled over this and with sudden decision took the card, dropping it into her shopping bag.
“You are not to follow. You promised!”
“Cross my heart! I shall remain here fifteen minutes. Can you vanish back into your sunbeam in fifteen minutes?”
“Completely.” Her little laugh was the finest thing he had ever heard. She smiled up into his face and passed out.