smiled.

"You are good to me! It's stupid of me--my head is so queer--did you say
you were--"

"The station-agent. My name is Banneker. I'm responsible to the company
for your safety and comfort. You're not to worry about it, nor think
about it, nor ask any questions."

"No," she agreed, and rose.

He threw the blanket around her shoulders. At the protective touch she
slipped her hand through his arm. So they went out into the night.

Mounting the stairs, she stumbled, and for a moment he felt the firm,
warm pressure of her body against him. It shook him strangely.

"I'm sorry," she murmured. And, a moment later, "Good-night, and thank
you."

Taking the hand which she held out, he returned her good-night. The door
closed. He turned away and was halfway down the flight when a sudden
thought recalled him. He tapped on the door.

"What is it?" asked the serene music of the voice.

"I don't want to bother you, but there's just one thing I forgot. Please
give me your name."

"What for?" returned the voice doubtfully.