Afternoon; Mr. Wrenn in his room. Miss Nash was back from tea,
but there was not a sound to be heard from her room, though he
listened with mouth open, bent forward in his chair, his hands
clutching the wooden seat, his finger-tips rubbing nervously
back and forth over the rough under-surface of the wood.
He wanted to help her--the wonderful lady who had been sobbing
in the night. He had a plan, in which he really believed,
to say to her, "Please let me help you, princess, jus' like I
was a knight."
At last he heard her moving about. He rushed downstairs and
waited on the stoop.
When she came out she glanced down and smiled contentedly.
He was flutteringly sure that she expected to see him there.
But all his plan of proffering assistance vanished as he saw
her impatient eyes and her splendors of dress--another
tight-fitting gown, of smoky gray, with faint silvery lights gliding
along the fabric.
She sat on the rail above him, immediately, unhesitatingly, and
answered his "Evenin'" cheerfully.
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