Albrecht, looking not unlike a fat hog newly shaven, sauntered out of the open office door, and stared idly about.  He spoke a gracious word or two to his rather silent utility man, viewing his well-cut clothing with some apparent misgiving, finally drifting over to join the more congenial group beyond.  Winston did not alter his chosen position, but remained with watchful eyes never long straying from off the ladies’ entrance, a few steps to his left.  All at once that slightly used door opened, and the hot blood leaped through his veins as Miss Norvell stepped forth unaccompanied.  She appeared well groomed, looking dainty enough in her blue skirt and jacket, her dark hair crowned by the tasteful blue toque, a prayer-book clasped in one neatly gloved hand.  As she turned unconsciously toward the steps, Winston lifted his hat and bowed.  With a quick upward glance of surprise the girl recognized him, a sudden flush crimsoning her cheeks, her eyes as instantly dropping before his own.  In that sudden revelation the young man appeared to her an utterly different character from what she had formerly considered him; the miracle of good clothing, of environment, had suddenly placed them upon a level of companionship.  That Winston likewise experienced something of this same exaltation was plainly evident, although his low voice trembled in momentary excitement.

“I trust you will pardon my presumption,” he said, taking the single step necessary to face her, “but I confess having been deliberately waiting here to request the privilege of walking to church beside you.”

“Beside me?  Indeed!” and both lips and eyes smiled unreservedly back at him.  “And how did you chance to guess it was my intention to attend?  Is it a peculiarity of leading ladies?”

“As to that I cannot safely say, my acquaintance among them being limited.”  He was acquiring fresh confidence from her cordial manner.  “But I chanced to overhear your questioning the clerk last night, and the bold project at once took possession of me.  Am I granted such permission?”

Her dark eyes wandered from their early scrutiny of his eager face toward that small group of interested smokers beyond.  What she may have beheld there was instantly reflected in a pursing of the lips, a swift decision.

“I shall be delighted to have your company,” she responded, frankly meeting his eyes, “but longer delay will probably make us late, and I abominate that.”

As they passed down the steps to the street Winston caught a glimpse of the others.  They were all intently gazing after them, while Mooney had even risen to his feet and taken a step forward, his cigar still in his mouth.  Then the group behind laughed loudly, and the younger man set his teeth, his cheeks flushed from sudden anger.  He would have enjoyed dashing back up the steps, and giving those grinning fools a much-needed lesson, but he glanced aside at his companion, her eyes downcast, seemingly utterly unconscious of it all, and gripped himself, walking along beside her, erect and silent.  They traversed the entire deserted block without speaking, each busied indeed with the intricacies of the board walk.  Then Winston sought to break the somewhat embarrassing silence, his first words sounding strangely awkward and constrained.