“'We can go to the Greek church, on the other side of the square,' I said. 'When can you be ready?'
“She walked back into her room, and I never saw her again.”
“God forgive you for a fool!” I said.
“Why didn't you tell her what every woman wants to hear, that you loved her?”
“Why, she must have known it; she must have realized it a thousand times, by a thousand signs. Yet she left me—that way.”
“You've had nothing from her since?”
“Yes. A money order for the balance of what she owed me.” An involuntary, jealous clutch at his pillow told me that the money order had not been and would not be cashed.
“No word with it?”
“Just gratitude.” The Gnome's sensitive lips quivered. “What do I want with gratitude? I want her! I want to find her. Suppose she were in trouble again. She's so young and helpless!”
“MacLachan never meant—”