Then I knew that it was the second time I had lifted a parasol
from the ground for the lady of the grey pongee and did not see
her face; but this time I placed it in her own hand; for my head
bore no shame upon it now.

In the surprise of encountering Poor Jr. I do not think she
noticed that she took the parasol or was conscious of my
presence, and it was but too secure that my young friend had
forgotten that I lived. I think, in truth, I should have
forgotten it myself, if it had not been for the leaping of my
heart.

Ah, that foolish dream of mine had proven true: I knew her, I
knew her, unmistaking, without doubt or hesitancy--and in the
dark! How should I know at the mere sound of her voice? I think
I knew before she spoke!

Poor Jr. had taken a step toward her as she fell back; I could
only see the two figures as two shadows upon shadow, while for
them I had melted altogether and was forgotten.

"You think I have followed you," he cried, "but you have no
right to think it. It was an accident and you've got to believe
me!"

"I believe you," she answered gently. "Why should I not?"

"I suppose you want me to clear out again," he went on, "and I
will; but I don't see why."