Farewell!" "Until this day week," Hugh Ingelow said, with a courteous smile and bow.
And then Miriam Dane was gone, flitting through bustling Broadway like a tall, haggard ghost.
Hugh Ingelow turned back to the window, his brows knit, his lips compressed, his eyes glowing with a deep, intense fire--thinking.

So he stood while the low, yellow gleams died out of the western sky, and the crystal stars swung in the azure arch--thinking, thinking!.