At a quarter to nine she ventured to say, ever so casually: "I feel sort of headachy. I think I'll run down and sit on the steps again and get a little fresh air." "Let's have a little walk. I'd like some fresh air, too," said Mrs. Golden, brightly. "Why--oh--to tell the truth, I wanted to think over some office business." "Oh, of course, my dear, if I am in the _way_--!" Mrs. Golden sighed, and trailed pitifully off into the bedroom. Una followed her, and wanted to comfort her. But she could say nothing, because she was palpitating over Walter's coming. The fifteen minutes of his stay might hold any splendor. She could not change her clothes. Her mother was in the bedroom, sobbing. All the way down the four flights of stairs she wanted to flee back to her mother. It was with a cold impatience that she finally saw Walter approach the house, ten minutes late. He was so grotesque in his frantic, puffing hurry. He was no longer the brilliant Mr. Babson, but a moist young man who hemmed and sputtered, "Gee!--couldn't find clean collar--hustled m' head off--just missed Subway express--couldn't make it--whew, I'm hot!" "It doesn't matter," she condescended. He dropped on the step just below her and mopped his forehead. Neither of them could say anything. He took off his horn-rimmed eye-glasses, carefully inserted the point of a pencil through the loop, swung them in a buzzing circle, and started to put them on again. "Oh, keep them _off_!" she snapped. "You look so high-brow with them!" "Y-yuh; why, s-sure!" She felt very superior. He feverishly ran a finger along the upper rim of his left ear, sprang up, stooped to take her hand, glared into her eyes till she shrank--and then a nail-cleaner, a common, ten-cent file, fell out of his inner pocket and clinked on the stone step. "Oh, damn!" he groaned. "I really think it _is_ going to rain," she said. They both laughed. He plumped down beside her, uncomfortably wedged between her and the rail. He caught her hand, intertwined their fingers so savagely that her knuckles hurt. "Look here," he commanded, "you don't really think it's going to rain any such a darn thing! I've come fourteen billion hot miles up here for just fifteen minutes--yes, and you wanted to see me yourself, too! And now you want to talk about the history of recent rains." In the bitter-sweet spell of his clasp she was oblivious of street, children, sky. She tried to withdraw her hand, but he squeezed her fingers the more closely and their two hands dropped on her thin knee, which tingled to the impact. "But--but what did you want to see me about?" Her superiority was burnt away. He answered her hesitation with a trembling demand. "I can't talk to you here! Can't we go some place-- Come walk toward the river." "Oh, I daren't really, Walter. My mother feels so--so fidgety to-night and I must go back to her.... By and by." "But would you like to go with me?" "Yes!" "Then that's all that matters!"