Nick got up, rather heavily for a
man so lithe as he.
"Well, I must go," he said. "Thank you for letting me take, you around San
Francisco. May I come to-morrow morning?"
"Oh, do. About half-past nine." She got up also, feeling miserable,
though, as she pointed out to herself, for no real reason.
"I'll be prompt." He put out his hand, and she laid hers in it, looking up
to his face with a smile which would not for the world have been wistful.
Suddenly his fingers gripped hers convulsively.
"So it's all over!" he whispered.
"No, no; not all over," she contradicted him. "There's to-morrow."
"Yes, there's to-morrow," he echoed.
"I told you at first," and she tried to laugh, "that 'sufficient for the
day was the trip thereof.' Nothing was to be planned ahead."
"It's all right, Mrs. May," Nick answered.. "I want to be glad you're
going to have that McCloud River visit. And, of course, you've got your
new place to think of. No wonder you're sick of travelling and want to
settle down. It's all right, and there's to-morrow, as you say."
He shook her hand, moving it up and down mechanically, then dropped it,
and turned to go. Another second and the door was opening. Then it was
shutting behind him. He had gone! And though he was coming to-morrow for a
little while, nothing would ever be as it had been between them.
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