"Is that all?"
"What else is there to remember—when a girl—cares for a man."
"Do you really care very much?"
Perhaps she considered the question superfluous, for she remained silent until his nerveless arm released her. Then she lifted her face from the muff. It was pale but smiling when he met her eyes.
"I'll go to see Mrs. Hammerton, some day," she said, "because it would hurt too much not to be able to come here when you ask me—and other people—like the—the Clydesdales. You were thinking of me when you thought of this, weren't you?"
"In a way. A girl has got to reckon with what people say."
She nodded, pale and expressionless, slowly brushing up the violets fastened to her muff.
Farris appeared, announced the time, and held Desboro's coat. They had just margin enough to make their train.