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There was a decided touch of asperity in the conductor's tone. He glared at Claire almost menacingly. Her lip trembled, the quick tears sprang to her eyes. She hesitated, swallowed hard, and then brought it out with a piteous gulp. "I had my fare 'twas in my glove. It must have slipped out. It's gone lost and " A tug at the signal-strap was the conductor's only comment.
Through the whirling snow he saw her eager face, with a quick recognition lighting the steady eyes, and wondered dimly, as he stood with his hand on the signal-strap, where he could have seen her before. He knew immediately. "There was a mistake," she said, with a shy tremor in her voice. "You gave us too much change and here it is."
By some hidden, mysterious force that was in her, or the mere commanding dimensions of her frame, Claire's companion had brought him to a halt. She lifted her charge gently up on to the step, pausing herself, before she should mount the platform, to close the girl's umbrella. "Step lively! Step lively!" the conductor urged insistently, reaching for his signal-strap.
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