I am clinging to this long chapter as if I were still clinging to
Susan's hand on the wind-swept station platform, hoarding time by
infinitesimally split seconds, dreading her inevitable escape. Phil--by
request, I suspect--did not come down; and Susan forbade me to enter the
train with her, having previously forbidden me to accompany her to town.
Togo was forward, amid crude surroundings, riling the brakemen with his
disgusted disdain. Miss Goucher had already said a decorous but
sincerely felt good-by, and had taken her place inside.
"Let's not be silly, Ambo," Susan whispered. "After all, you'll be down
soon--won't you? You're always running to New York."
Then, unexpectedly, she snatched her hand from mine, threw her arms
tight round my neck, and for a reckless public moment sobbed and kissed
me. With that she was gone.... I turned, too, at once, meaning flight
from the curious late-comers pressing toward the car steps. One of them
distinctly addressed me.
"Good morning, Ambrose. Don't worry about your charming little ward.
She'll be quite safe--away from you. I'll keep a friendly eye on her
going down."
It was Lucette.