Then, without speaking, she gave him her hand.
For a moment his fingers grasped hers.
"You may depend upon me," he said.
She slipped free from his hold.

"Thank you," she said, her voice very low.
A few seconds later Field sat again at his table by the window.

The wind was blowing in from the river in rising gusts.

The blind-tassel tapped and tapped, now here, now there, like a trapped creature seeking frantically for escape.

For a space he sat quite motionless, gazing before him as though unaware of his surroundings.