"When the time comes that you want help, when you cannot go on alone—"
It sounded like woman's sentiment, and I interrupted jokingly:—
"When I am in the last ditch, cable you?"
"Don't laugh at me! I am more earnest than you know. If that time comes—if you don't know which way to turn for help, if you have done all, and still—"
We were standing beside a bandstand, and at that moment the music crashed out, flooding us with deafening sound.
She pressed my hand, smiled, and turned away. I thought no more of her words then. But some weeks later, before the Drounds sailed for Europe, there came in my mail an envelope addressed in a woman's hand. Inside there was only another envelope, marked:—
"For the last ditch!"