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 salad dressing of her own in a bowl. The best dressing, by the way, I'd ever tasted.

She'd the prettiest hands I'd ever seen; and to have them doing things for me!

Occasionally, but with rapidly lessening frequency, I wondered about George,—why he didn't show up for supper and to what I'd left him with Dib. I ventured to ask Doris about him.

"Oh, he's not hungry," she assured me.

As I remembered him, he hadn't looked it; he'd only looked worried, whereas she didn't at all. She had true nerve, you see.

That dinner was so delightful that I longed to forget that she was playing for her liberty for the next ten years. I didn't want any other element in this but just her and me.

It ended with the check which she let me pay without silly argument; then we had to get up, and never more reluctant feet than mine moved from a dining car.

She went through the Pullmans in front of me; at each door, I came beside her, opened it; for a moment we were close. I hoped we were going to her compartment; but she surprised me in the vestibule of the third car rear from the diner.