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She
leant
against
the
door
-
post
,
and
gave
him
her
hand
.
Charley
took
it
in
both
his
own
with
a
tenderness
beyond
description
,
unless
it
was
like
that
of
a
child
holding
a
captured
sparrow
.
“
Why
,
there
’
s
a
glove
on
it
!
”
he
said
in
a
deprecating
way
.
“
I
have
been
walking
,
”
she
observed
.
“
But
,
miss
!
”
“
Well
—
it
is
hardly
fair
.
”
She
pulled
off
the
glove
,
and
gave
him
her
bare
hand
.
They
stood
together
minute
after
minute
,
without
further
speech
,
each
looking
at
the
blackening
scene
,
and
each
thinking
his
and
her
own
thoughts
.
“
I
think
I
won
’
t
use
it
all
up
tonight
,
”
said
Charley
devotedly
,
when
six
or
eight
minutes
had
been
passed
by
him
caressing
her
hand
.
“
May
I
have
the
other
few
minutes
another
time
?
”
“
As
you
like
,
”
said
she
without
the
least
emotion
.
“
But
it
must
be
over
in
a
week
.
Now
,
there
is
only
one
thing
I
want
you
to
do
—
to
wait
while
I
put
on
the
dress
,
and
then
to
see
if
I
do
my
part
properly
.
But
let
me
look
first
indoors
.
”
She
vanished
for
a
minute
or
two
,
and
went
in
.
Her
grandfather
was
safely
asleep
in
his
chair
.
“
Now
,
then
,
”
she
said
,
on
returning
,
“
walk
down
the
garden
a
little
way
,
and
when
I
am
ready
I
’
ll
call
you
.
”
Charley
walked
and
waited
,
and
presently
heard
a
soft
whistle
.
He
returned
to
the
fuelhouse
door
.
