He did not see her until he was almost upon
her. She was alone and engaged in writing out a telegram. His plans
were altered in an instant. A moment later, he was at her side, his
face flushed and eager.
For many seconds she stared wonderingly into his smiling eyes. Before
uttering a word she glanced at the message she had finished and was
about to hand it to the clerk; then her gaze returned to his face.
"David Jenison," she said, and there was something like awe in her
voice, "is it really you? How strange--how very strange!"
"I'm not a ghost," he cried. "You look at me as if I had crept out of
my grave."
She looked again at the telegram. "Why, David," she began falteringly.
Then her face cleared. A glad smile broke over it, and both her hands
were extended. "It really _is_ you? I am not seeing visions? Yes, you
are flesh and blood! You dear, dear David! I am _so_ glad to see you.
How does it happen that you are here? Where do you come from and--" She
went on with the eagerness of a child, asking more questions than he
could remember, much less answer. "And how wonderfully you have grown
up!"
"I have seen Christine," he said eagerly.
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