“Then I thank thee for that. It is much better to be thankful that there was no hurt—than that there was—does thee not think so?”
He did.
And he followed that wandering, fluttering, little hand until it again came under the dominion of his, and was again—a trifle more slowly now—withdrawn.
“My hand is not hurt,” she said.
“Heavens! I believe my heart is,” he laughed.
“This is my station,” she said, and ran out of the car.
V
A DANGEROUS TRAIN
There were other meetings on that ten-thirty train, until Doctor Rem showed a very moody face at the house of his friend Jarn, one day.
“Doesn’t she come to pound the piano any more?” asked he of Bell-Bell.
“Certainly.”