And I think"-- she spoke hesitatingly--"I think he'd love--and never give up; unless the loved one disappointed him in some way; and then he'd be strong enough to go his way and not whine about it.

I do hate a whiner! Don't you ?" A shadow fell upon the platform outside the door, and Saunders appeared, sidling deprecatingly into the room.

He pulled off his black, slouched hat and tucked it under his arm, smoothed his lank, black hair, ran his palm down over his lank, unshaven face with a smoothing gesture, and sidled over to the telegraph table.
"Here's the answer to that message," he said, in a limp tone, without any especial emphasis or inflection.

"If you ain't too busy, and could send it right off--it's to go C.O.D.and make 'em repeat it, so as to be sure--" "Certainly, Mr.Saunders." Miss Georgie rose, the crisp, businesslike operator, and went to the table.

She took the sheet of paper from him with her finger tips, as if he were some repulsive creature whose touch would send her shuddering, and glanced at the message.