And now tell me about yourself," she continued in a louder voice, regaining her seat.

"You have had a dreadful time, I hear--it was the wrist, wasn't it ?" She felt she was beginning badly; although conscious of her nervous joy and her desire to conceal it, somehow it seemed hard for her to say the right thing.
"Oh, I reckon it was everything, Miss Ruth, but it's all over now." He was not nervous.

He was in an ecstasy.

His eyes were drinking in the round of her throat and the waves of glorious hair that crowned her lovely head.

He noticed, too, some tiny threads that lay close to her ears: he had been so hungry for a glimpse of them! "Oh, I hope so, but you shouldn't have come to the station that day," she struggled on.