select the roof for our little--differences?" He seemed to relax
somewhat at my gibe.

"I didn't know it was you," he explained shortly. "I was waiting
for--some one, and in the hat you wore and the coat, I mistook
you. That's all. Can you stand?"

"No," I retorted. I could, but his summary manner displeased me.
The sequel, however, was rather amazing, for he stooped suddenly
and picked me up, and the next instant we were out in the storm
together. At the door he stooped and felt for the knob.

"Turn it," he commanded. "I can't reach it."

"I'll do nothing of the kind," I said shrewishly. "Let me down; I
can walk perfectly well."

He hesitated. Then he slid me slowly to my feet, but he did not
open the door at once. "Are you afraid to let me carry you down
those stairs, after--Tuesday night?" he asked, very low. "You
still think I did that?"

I had never been less sure of it than at that moment, but an imp
of perversity made me retort, "Yes."

He hardly seemed to hear me. He stood looking down at me as I
leaned against the door frame.

"Good Lord!" he groaned. "To think that I might have killed you!"
And then--he stooped and suddenly kissed me.