“Oh—! I don’t want it!” She ignored the woman. She moved swiftly past her and was half-way to the elevator. He sprang after her, with a backward glance of apology at the woman, who stood with the coat on her arm, gazing after them.
In the elevator Eleanor shivered a little, and he squeezed her arm in his in the darkness.
“It’s all right!” he said soothingly, beneath his breath.
She nodded and pressed a little against him.
When they stepped into the light he glanced at her face. It had almost a tragic look.
“Better go back and get it,” he said peremptorily. “Hang the price!”
But she shook her head.
Half-way to the door, he touched her arm. “Let’s get it!” he said coax-ingly.
“I don’t want it!” She turned a gaze on him—half-tragic, half-humorous.... “Do you know why I would not get it?” she demanded.
“I don’t know anything!” he declared, jostling through the crowd to keep pace with her. “I’m incapable of knowing—anything!”