“I’m sorry,” she murmured. And, a moment later, “Good-night, and thank you.”
Taking the hand which she held out, he returned her good-night. The door closed. He turned away and was halfway down the flight when a sudden thought recalled him. He tapped on the door.
“What is it?” asked the serene music of the voice.
“I don’t want to bother you, but there’s just one thing I forgot. Please give me your name.”
“What for?” returned the voice doubtfully.
“I must report it to the company.”
“Must you?” The voice seemed to be vaguely troubled. “To-night?”
“Don’t give a thought to it,” he said. “To-morrow will do just as well. I’m sorry to have troubled you.”
“Good-night,” she said again.
“Can’t remember her own name!” thought Banneker, moved and pitiful.