There was not such another in the whole wide world.
Suddenly she turned, and evidently she saw that some one was near her,
though he knew it was not possible that she had recognized him. She sat
quite still for another five minutes, then rose very quietly, gathering
up the remembered black handbag, and moved like a young nun into the
aisle, head downbent. King slipped out of his pew, made a quick circuit
around the pillar, and met her squarely as she came toward him.
He stood still in her path, and she, looking partially up to pass him
with that complete ignoring of his presence which young women of
breeding employ when strangers threaten to take notice, heard his low
voice: "Please don't run away--from your friend!"
"Oh--Mr. King!" Her eyes, startled, met his indeed, and into her face,
as she spoke his name, poured a flood of beautiful colour, at sight of
which King all but lost his head.
He managed, however, to retain sufficient sanity to grasp her hand after
the fashion approved as the proper sign of cordiality in meeting a
valued acquaintance, and to say, in an outwardly restrained manner:
"Won't you sit down again here? We can talk so much better than
outside--and I must talk with you. You have no idea how hard I have
tried to find you."
She seemed to hesitate for an instant, but ended by slipping into the
pew by the pillar where King had been sitting, and to which he pointed
her, as the most sheltered spot at hand, where the group of people at
the front of the church were hidden from view, and only the now low and
throbbing notes of the organ could remind the pair that they were not
absolutely alone.
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