His hand closed desperately on hers in spite of her purpose to withdraw it instantly.
“I won’t say it,” he answered fiercely. “I won’t give you up. You haven’t treated me fairly. I won’t submit. I’m coming again—do you hear?”
She stared at him a moment with firmly set lips and answered:
“There is nothing in common between us, Mr. Caveman. We live in different worlds. We were born in different ages—”
He dropped her hand and sprang to the platform of the moving train without looking back.
CHAPTER XVI
ARRIVING at Stuyvesant Square, Vassar decided to go at once and see Angela’s husband.
The door of his tiny apartment opened on the little crooked street before the old Armory. He caught the gay colors of Angela’s dress at the window. She was leaning far out over the flower boxes, and gesticulating to her man in the street below.
Benda, the center of a group of children, was playing the hand organ which Pasquale had given the boy. The kids were dancing.
He stopped short his music at the sight of his leader, waved the children aside and hurried to meet him.