She was shaking all over, but his hand was steady and wholly kind.
He led her up the narrow stairs to her own room.

In the little boudoir the fire was burning brightly; the lamps were lighted, just as the maid had left them at the first alarm.
Maggie sat down, and quite suddenly she burst into tears.
Steinmetz did not leave her.

He stood beside her, gently stroking her shoulder with his stout fingers.

He said nothing, but the gray mustache only half concealed his lips, which were twisted with a little smile full of tenderness and sympathy.
Maggie was the first to speak.
"I am all right now," she said.

"Please do not wait any longer, and do not think me a very weak-minded person.