Page:In The Cage (London, Duckworth, 1898).djvu/94

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IN THE CAGE

it was far from over, even on his sending across the way, with the pleasantest laugh she had ever heard, a little lift of his hat and an 'Oh, good evening!' It was still less over on their meeting, the next minute, though rather indirectly and awkwardly, in the middle of the road—a situation to which three or four steps of her own had unmistakably contributed,—and then passing not again to the side on which she had arrived, but back toward the portal of Park Chambers.

'I didn't know you at first. Are you taking a walk?'

'Oh, I don't take walks at night! I 'm going home after my work.'

'Oh!'

That was practically what they had meanwhile smiled out, and his exclamation, to which, for a minute, he appeared to have nothing to add, left them face to face and in just such an attitude as, for his part, he might have worn had he been wondering if he could properly ask her to come in. During this interval, in fact, she really felt his question to be just 'How properly———?'