"Won't you let me go?"
"Just a minute. I … I should like to…. If I find that you have done nothing so very dreadful." he laughed uneasily, "do you wish to know?"
"You know I do." She could not help saying that, letting him see that far into her heart. "You spoke of my calling, I believe. That means to-morrow afternoon, at the earliest. May I not call you up on the telephone?"
"The number is in the book," she said in a tremulous voice.
"And your name in the card-case?"
"Yes."
"And if I should call in half an hour—?"
"O, I shall not sleep until I know!… Good night!"
"Good night!… Drive on, cabby."
He stood, smiling queerly, until the hansom, climbing the Park Avenue hill, vanished over its shoulder. Then swung about and with an eager step retraced his way to his rooms, very confident that God was in His Heaven and all well with the world.