ple and his breath fanning her cheek. And it was equally consoling to know that the thought of calamity to her could bring anything like a feeling of consternation to him. He was fumbling at the neck of her dress, by this time, trying to loosen it. And even the absurd movements of his fingers engaged in that absurd mission were not altogether disagreeable to her.
"Sadie, speak to me!" he implored.
But Sadie entertained no intention of speaking to him. To do that would end a situation which might never come again. So Sadie kept her eyes shut and made the most of it.
Wilsnach, as he stared down into her face, felt the injustice of it all. It was not the kind of work into which any woman should have been dragged. Sadie, he knew, was not like other women. But still it was not quite fair to her. He felt more than sorry for her: he felt under a tremendous debt of gratitude to her. She had stood by him in more than one crisis. She had, in fact, never failed him. Her companionship had come to mean a great deal to him. She was a quick-witted and a big-hearted girl who'd never been given a chance. And there was something about her that he liked, and liked a lot.
