"Say, Miss James," he asked suddenly, breaking in on her twentieth polite question, "d'you come to this joint, I mean, to this meetin' house every night?"
Her face seemed to shape itself naturally to a smile; she smiled now.
"I can't come every night," she answered; "but I come pretty often.
I, I hope you'll come sometimes, now."
Goodwin discounted that; it was no more than the missioner had bidden her to say.
"Are you goin' to be here tomorrow?" he demanded.
Her mild, pretty face flushed faintly; the meaning of his question was palpable.
"Ye-es," she hesitated; "I expect I'll be coming to-morrow."
"That's all right, then," said Goodwin cheerfully. "An' I'll be along, too."
The elderly woman whom she had left at the missioner's summons was hovering patiently. Goodwin held out his hand.
"Good night, Miss James," he said.