She must be alone. She was there to be with Howie.

She was not as late as she had feared. There would be time for getting
ready--getting ready for Howie! She knew this would be the last time she
would see Howie as he had moved through the world. For the last time she
would see his face light to a smile. If she did not reach him tonight,
she would never reach him. She had a feeling that she could reach him,
if only something in her--if only something in her--

She could not finish that; it brought her to a place into which she
could not reach, but as never before she had a feeling that he could be
reached. And so when the little girl beside her twisted in her seat and
she knew that the child was looking up at her she tried not to know this
little girl was there--tried not to know that any of those people were
there. If only she could get them all out of the _way_--she could reach
into the shadow and feel Howie near!

But there was one thing she kept knowing--try her best not to know it!
The little girl beside her, too young to be there, was going to sleep.
When it came right up to the moment for her to see Howie, she was
knowing that that little girl had fallen asleep in an uncomfortable
position. Her head had been resting on the side of the seat--the side
next Laura--and as she fell asleep it slipped from its support in a way
that--Could _she_ help it if this child was not comfortable? Angry, she
tried to brush this from her consciousness as we brush dust from our
eyes. This was her moment with _Howie_--her _chance_.

But when her moment came, a cruel thing happened. Something was wrong
with the machine that was showing the picture. At just _that_ moment--of
all the moments!--the worn-out film seemed to be going to pieces before
her eyes. After the little dog came along, and just as Howie should come
out from the cigar-store, there was a flash--a blur--a jumble of
movements. It was like an earthquake--it looked like life ceasing to be
life. "_No!_" she gasped under her breath. "_No!_" The people around her
were saying things of a different sort. "Cut it!" "What you givin' us?"
"Whoa, boy!" They laughed. _They_ didn't care. It got a little better;
she could make out Howie bending down to fix the dog's muzzle--but it
was all dancing crazily--and people were laughing. And then--then the
miracle! It was on Howie's smile the picture steadied--that smile back
over his shoulder after he had turned to go. And, as if to brin