An engine flares past, it sounds like iron striking iron,
and I start, but she does not; she is probably entirely absorbed in
thoughts about her friend. And the train rolls on.
Then, for the first time, she glances at me, and her eyes are
strangely blue.
"It grows darker?" she says.
"We are approaching a tunnel," I answer.
And we rode through the tunnel.
Some time passes. She glances at me, a trifle impatiently, and says:
"It seems to me it grows dark again?"
"We are drawing near the second tunnel, there are three altogether," I
answer. "Here is a map--do you want to see?"
"It frightens me," she says and moves closer to me. I say nothing. She
asks me smilingly:
"Did you say three tunnels? Is there one more besides this one?"
"Yes--one more."
We enter the tunnel; I feel that she is very close to me, her hand
touches mine. Then it grows light again and we are once more in the
open.
We ride for a quarter of an hour. She is now so close to me that I
feel the warmth from her.
"You are welcome to lift my braid if you wish to," she says, "and if
you care to look at my ring--why, here it is!"
I held her braid and did not take her ring because her friend had
given it to her.
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