And the girl, looking up into the strong, calm face, knew that it
would be so, that the power of resisting her Better Self had passed
away from her for ever.
"Now," said the stranger, "come to the door with me. Leave-takings
are but wasted sadness. Let me pass out quietly. Close the door
softly behind me."
She thought that perhaps he would turn his face again, but she saw no
more of him than the odd roundness of his back under the tightly
buttoned coat, before he faded into the gathering fog.
Then softly she closed the door.
*** End of Project Gutenberg etext of Pass of the Third Floor Back ***