Her eyes were still red,
but she had the happy look of a child that has outslept its grief. On the
floor he noticed the tattered fragments of the letter which, a few hours
earlier, he had seen her place before the mirror.
"Shall we go down now?" he asked.
"Very well," she assented; then, with a quick movement, she stepped close
to him, and putting her hands on his shoulders lifted her face to his.
"I believe you're the best man I ever knew," she said, "the very best--
except Joe."
She drew back blushing deeply, and unlocked the door which led into the
passage-way. Woburn picked up her bag, which she had forgotten, and
followed her out of the room. They passed a frowzy chambermaid, who stared
at them with a yawn. Before the doors the row of boots still waited; there
was a faint new aroma of coffee mingling with the smell of vanished
dinners, and a fresh blast of heat had begun to tingle through the
radiators.
In the unventilated coffee-room they found a waiter who had the melancholy
air of being the last survivor of an exterminated race, and who
reluctantly brought them some tea made with water which had not boiled,
and a supply of stale rolls and staler butter. On this meagre diet they
fared in silence, Woburn occasionally glancing at his watch; at length he
rose, telling his companion to go and pay her bill while he called a
hansom. After all, there was no use in economizing his remaining dollars.
In a few moments she joined him under the portico of the hotel.
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