“I do,” she hesitated, “but I suppose I can’t.”
He had a sudden inspiration. “Can I take you anywhere? My little flivver is up there on the bridge. Would you mind that?”
“Would I mind if a life-line were thrown to me in mid-ocean?” She said it lightly, but he fancied there was a note of high hope.
They went up the hill together. “I want to get an Alexandria car,” she told him.
“But you are miles away from it.”
“Am I?” She showed momentary confusion. “I—hoped I might reach it through the Park——”
“You might. But you might also freeze to death in the attempt like a babe in the wood, without any robins to perform the last melancholy rites. What made you think of such a thing?”
He saw at once his mistake. Her voice had a touch of frigidity. “I can’t tell you.”
“Sorry,” he said abruptly. “You must forgive me.”
She melted. “No, it is I who should be forgiven. It must look strange to you—but I’d rather not—explain——”