, buckling frantically at the straps of his sample-case.

"Very likely," the Youngish Girl answered calmly. "And if he never got
it, then Fate has surely settled everything perfectly definitely for
me--that way. The only trouble with that would be," she added
whimsically, "that an unanswered letter is always pretty much like an
unhooked hook. Any kind of a gap is apt to be awkward, and the hook
that doesn't catch in its own intended tissue is mighty apt to tear
later at something you didn't want torn."

"I don't know anything about that," persisted the Traveling Salesman,
brushing nervously at the cinders on his hat. "All I say is--maybe he's
married."

"Well, that's all right," smiled the Youngish Girl. "Then Fate would
have settled it all for me perfectly satisfactorily _that_ way. I
wouldn't mind at all his not being at the station. And I wouldn't
mind at all his being married. And I wouldn't mind at all his turning
out to be very, very old. None of those things, you see, would
interfere in the slightest with the memory of the--Voice or
the--chivalry of the broken hand. THE ONLY THING I'D MIND, I TELL
YOU, WOULD BE TO THINK THAT HE REALLY AND TRULY WAS THE MAN WHO WAS
MADE FOR ME--AND I MISSED FINDING IT OUT!--Oh, of course, I've
worried myself sick these past few months thinking of the audacity of
what I've done. I've got such a 'Sore Thought,' as you call it, that
I'm almost ready to scream if anybody mentions the word 'indiscreet'
in my presence. And yet, and yet--after all, it isn't as though I were
reaching out into the darkness after an indefinite object. What I'm
reaching out for is a _light_, so that I can tell exactly just what
object is there. And, anyway," she quoted a little waveringly:

"He either fears his fate too much,
Or his, deserts are small,
Who dares not put it to the touch
To gain or lose it all!"

"Ain't you scared just a little bit?" probed the Traveling Salesman.

All around them the people began bustling suddenly with their coats
and bags. With a gesture of impatience the Youngish Girl jumped up and
started to fasten her furs. The eyes that turned to answer the
Traveling Salesman's question were brimming wet with tears.

"Yes--I'm--scared to death!" she smiled incongruously.

Almost authoritatively the Salesman reached out his empty hand for her
traveling-bag. "What you going to do if he ain't there?" he asked.

The Girl's eyebrows lifted. "Why, just what I'm g