The front door opened a second time, and a man came out and, though he
was quite young, he looked older than the world. He was shaking and
very white; his hair was disordered and straggled across his brow. He
wore no collar, but held the lapels of his coat across his throat with
trembling fingers. Fearfully he looked up the street where the maid had
gone, then stamped his foot on the paving stones and with his free hand
rubbed his forehead and beat it with his knuckles.
"Oh, will he never come!" she heard him cry, and the words echoed
through her as though they had been her own. If it was a prayer he had
uttered it was swiftly answered; for at the moment the maid and a
bearded man came round the corner at a fast walk. The bearded man had a
kind face and broad shoulders.
She did not hear what passed between them; but the bearded man seemed
confident and comfortable and compelling, and presently he and the maid
went into the house, while the other man leaned against the railings
and stared out before him at a tiny star which had appeared in a crack
between the driven clouds.
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