“Yes,” she said.
“Could I be of any help?”
“Thank you,” said Sylvia. “My cousin has gone back to look. He will be here soon.”
That was all. Sylvia resumed her search. But the man’s way was the same as hers, and he did not go as fast as before. She was really worried about her loss, and barely thought of him. His voice was that of a gentleman, so his nearness did not disturb her.
“Was it something valuable?” he asked, at last.
“It was a medallion with a picture that I prize.”
She stopped at a corner, uncertain of the street by which she and Harley had come. He stopped also. “I would be very glad to help,” he said, “if you would permit me.”
“Thank you,” she said, “but I really think that my cousin will find it. We had not come far.”
Again there was a pause. As she went on, he was near her, looking diligently. After a while she began to find the silence awkward, but she did not like to send him away, and she did not like to speak again. So it was with real relief that, looking down the street, she saw Harley coming. “There’s my cousin!” she said. “Oh, I do hope he’s found it.”
“He doesn’t act as if he had,” remarked the other; and Sylvia’s heart sank, for she saw that Harley walked slowly, and with his eyes on the ground.