With a groan he gathered together his papers, and bidding Tim mind the baby till he returned, seized his hat and hurried from the room.

On the dark, narrow staircase he brushed against a dress which he knew must be hers.

For a moment he was tempted to pause, if only for a look at her face; but she passed on, and was gone before he could turn.
He went out miserably into the street, and waited within view of the entrance to the alley till she should come out.

She was long before she appeared--he guessed how those two friendless little orphans would detain her.

When she came her veil was down, and in the crowd on the pavement he lost sight of her in a moment.