"Yes," she continued, as though communing with herself, "I really
believe he would rather talk about his old stars than bother coming
down to the level of a girl who is dying to bring him to earth. I
cannot imagine a more disagreeable man to be shipwrecked with."
"Nor I a more agreeable--" He checked himself. "I am entirely at your
service, Miss Howland," he added; "which is to say, I have alighted."
She did not answer at once. Instead she leaned forward with her hands
supporting her chin, her elbows in her lap, gazing solemnly at the
western stars.
"It is nearly eight o'clock, isn't it?" she asked, without moving her
head.
"Yes," replied Dan, "about that. Why?"
"Just now in New York," said Virginia in her low, full tones, "they
have finished dining on Broadway. All the lights are, oh, so bright!
and women in the most gorgeous spring gowns and men in evening dress
are pouring out of the Astor, the Waldorf, the Knickerbocker,--every
place,--and stepping into red and green taxi-cabs, or strolling
leisurely to see the latest play. And on Fifth Avenue, in the club
opposite our house, the same five stout men are just about to occupy
the same five stout chairs in the big windows. I have watched them for
years, and--" The girl paused. "Our house! Do you suppose my father
is there now?" She closed her eyes.
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