Her agitation had subsided, leaving her with a piteous, forlorn look--the look of the wayfarer who is almost too tired to go any farther.
There fell a brief silence between them, then with a little smile she spoke.
"Are you going to give me back my brooch ?" He put his hand in his pocket.

"I was nearly keeping it for good and all," he said, as he brought it out.
She took it from him and pinned it in her dress without words.

Then, shyly, she proffered her hand.

"Thank you.

Good-bye!" He drew a short hard breath as he took it into his own.