It had come at last; they were to know each other, to talk together, to touch each other's hands.
Marcus brought Old Grannis around the table to little Miss Baker, dragging him by the coat sleeve, exclaiming: "Well, I thought you two people knew each other long ago.

Miss Baker, this is Mr.Grannis; Mr.
Grannis, this is Miss Baker." Neither spoke.

Like two little children they faced each other, awkward, constrained, tongue-tied with embarrassment.

Then Miss Baker put out her hand shyly.

Old Grannis touched it for an instant and let it fall.
"Now you know each other," cried Marcus, "and it's about time." For the first time their eyes met; Old Grannis trembled a little, putting his hand uncertainly to his chin.