e shook his head uncertainly, barely conscious of her words in a last
rapt gaze at her, vaguely aware that this was the picture of her that
he would carry in his mind through the years to come. Rounded, long of
lines, apart from him she looked as tall as he, though there was a two
inch discrepancy; the wide eyes and generous, curved mouth indicated
her infinite capacity for affection. The shadow of a dimple flickered
high on her left cheek: the quickened beat of heart pulsed in the
white column of her throat.

"Is it because you hate the town, Dick?" she asked tremulously.

Again he shook his head slowly: "No, Deane, it is not that. The town
is all right--it is not that."

He paused, brooding, then went on: "Last night I did not
sleep--much--thinking about it. It's all my fault.... I do not fit. So
I am going away, going to try to find my own place, somehow."

Tortured by his patient smile, she followed him out into the dim hall,
half blinded by her burning tears. She sobbed unrestrainedly as he
slipped into his overcoat.

He came to her, his hand outstretched, his voice husky.

"Good-by, Deane-girl," he said.

Taking his hand she stepped close to him, misty-eyed, atremble.

"Good-by, Di--Oh, Dick! Don't go! Don't go way over to those awful
Islands!"

He steadied her with an arm about the shaking shoulders. She leaned
full against him and in the soft contact his pulses leaped. He fought
to resist the temptation to take advantage of her mood, knew that for
the moment she was his if he but pressed his claim.

Suddenly she looked up at him, glorious in her grief and surrender.

"Shall I--do you want me to--to--wait?"

For a few moments it seemed that he had not heard the low voice.

Then: "Don't wait, Deane-girl,--don't wait."

Then the arm was gone from about her shoulder.

"But I will, Dick, I will!" she sobbed, but as the words fell from her
lips she heard the door close and felt the gust of cold air that
chilled the hall.

* * * * *

She was still awake when the midnight accommodation whistled its
impending arrival from the north. She listened, tense, as the train
came to a stop in the town. A brief halt, then it sounded its
underway, the pistons accelerated their chugging beat and it passed
out of Crampville into the south.

She stood, still-breathed, dry-eyed, till the last grinding rumble
died out of the frosty night, then as a full realization of her loss
came h