There was not an instant to lose, for the train had already stopped; they arose with one accord and hurried out into the silvery Harlem moonlight—which does not, perhaps, differ from normal moonlight, although it seemed to him to do astonishing tricks with her hair and figure there on the deserted platform, turning her into the loveliest and most unreal creature he had ever seen in all his life.
"There ought to be a train pretty soon," he said cheerfully.
She did not answer.
"Do you mind my speaking to you now that we are——"
"Untethered?" she said with a sudden little flurry of laughter. "Oh, no; why should I care what happens to me now, after taking a railroad journey tied to the shoe-strings of an absent-minded stranger?"
"Please don't speak so—so heartlessly——"
"Heartlessly? What have hearts to do with this evening's lunacy?" she asked, coolly.
He had an idea, an instinctive premonition, but it was no explanation to offer her.
Far away up the track the starlike headlight of a train glittered: he called her attention to it, and she nodded. Neither spoke for a long while; the headlight grew larger and yellower; the vicious little train came whizzing in, slowed, halted with a jolt. He put her aboard and followed into a car absolutely empty save for themselves. When they had gravely seated themselves side by side she looked around at him and said without particular severity: "I can see no reason for our going back together; can you?"