“I’m headed north right now. If there’s any information I can send you——”
She shook her head slowly, but even the negative was marked by an indecisive quality, as if she were repressing some importunate desire.
“I wish you a pleasant journey, sir.” All her belongings were in her hands.
“It’s queer—it’s almost more than queer how we happened to meet—both interested in the north country,” he stuttered, wanting to detain her.
He was hoping she would make something of the matter.
But she merely acknowledged the truth of his statement, adding, “There would be more such coincidences in life if folks took the trouble to interest themselves a bit in one another and compare notes.”
She started to walk away; then she whirled and came back to the table and leaned over it. Her soul of longing was in her eyes—they were filled with tears. “You’re going back there,” she whispered. “God bless the north country! Give a friendly pat to one of the big trees for me and say you found a girl in New York who is homesick.”
She turned from him before he could summon words.
He wanted to call after her—to find out more about her. He saw her gathering up her change at the cashier’s wicket. The spectacle reminded him of his own check. Even love at first sight, if such could be the strange new emotion struggling within him, could not enable him to leap the barrier of the cashier’s cold stare and rush away without paying scot. He hunted for his punched check. He pawed all over the marble top of the table, rattling the dishes.
A check—it was surely all of that!