“What of her? Have you quarrelled with her?” The girl shook her head. The man who sat behind a pigeon-hole, and regulated the comings and goings, was for a moment absent. Then came the shock of the knowledge that soon he would be going upon his way, that there would be no one to depend upon her; and all the old loneliness came smothering down upon her again. Who knows?—on the analogy of “Squiggles” she might come to call him “Mangles!” “I don’t think I can ever marry any one,” she said, and fell suddenly into another set of considerations that perplexed her for a time.
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