ugh? If there had been any place down-town here where I could cash a
check at this time of night, I should have made it more."

He looked at her anxiously as he handed over the pocketbook. It seemed a
ridiculously small sum with which to begin a journey alone, especially for
a young woman of her apparent refinement. On the other hand, his friends
would probably say he was a fool for having hazarded so much as he had
upon an unknown woman, who was perhaps an adventuress. However, he had
thrown discretion to the winds, and was undeniably interested in his new
acquaintance.

"How thoughtful you are!" said the girl. "It would have been most
embarrassing not to have a place to put my ticket, nor any money. This
seems a fortune after being penniless"--she smiled ruefully. "Are you sure
you have not reduced yourself to that condition? Have you saved enough to
carry you home?"

"Oh, I have my mileage book with me," he said happily. It pleased him
absurdly that she had not declined the pocketbook.

"Thank you so much. I shall return the price of the ticket and this money
as soon as possible," said the girl earnestly.

"You must not think of that," he protested. "You know I have your ring.
That is far more valuable than anything I have given you."

"Oh, but you said you were going to keep the ring, so that will not pay
for this, I want to be sure that you lose nothing."

He suddenly became aware that the train was whistling and that the
conductor was motioning him to go.

"But you have not told me your name," he cried in dismay.

"You have named me," she answered, smiling. "I am Mary Remington."

"But that is not your real name."

"You may call me Mary if you like," she said. "Now go, please, quick! I'm
afraid you'll get hurt."

"You will remember that I am your friend?"

"Yes, thank you. Hurry, please!"

The train paused long enough for him to step in front of her window and
wave his hat in salute. Then she passed on into the night, and only two
twinkling lights, like diminis