The busses had stopped running and the cab-drivers were leading their horses.

When they reached the other side, MacConnell said suddenly, "I hope you are happy." "Terribly, dangerously happy, Mac,"-- Hilda spoke quietly, pressing the rough sleeve of his greatcoat with her gloved hand.
"You've always thought me too old for you, Hilda,--oh, of course you've never said just that,--and here this fellow is not more than eight years younger than I.I've always felt that if I could get out of my old case I might win you yet.

It's a fine, brave youth I carry inside me, only he'll never be seen." "Nonsense, Mac.

That has nothing to do with it.

It's because you seem too close to me, too much my own kind.