When the thing was at its hottest, I bolted. Tom, like the darling heis—(Yes, you are, old fellow, you're as precious to me as—as you areto the police—if they could only get their hands on you)—well, Tomdrew off the crowd, having passed the old gentleman's watch to me, andI made for the women's rooms.
The station was crowded, as it always is in the afternoon, and in aminute I was strolling into the big, square room, saying slowly tomyself to keep me steady:
"Nancy, you're a college girl—just in from Bryn Mawr to meet yourpapa. Just see if your hat's on straight."
I did, going up to the big glass and looking beyond my excited face tothe room behind me. There sat the woman who can never nurse her babyexcept where everybody can see her, in a railroad station. There wasthe woman who's always hungry, nibbling chocolates out of a box; andthe woman fallen asleep, with her hat on the side, and hairpinsdropping out of her hair; and the woman who's beside herself with fearthat she'll miss her train; and the woman who is taking notes about theother women's rigs. And—
And I didn't like the look of that man with the cap who opened theswinging door a bit and peeped in. The women's waiting-room is noplace for a man—nor for a girl who's got somebody else's watch insideher waist. Luckily, my back was toward him, but just as the door swungback he might have caught the reflection of my face in a mirror hangingopposite to the big one.
I retreated, going to an inner room where the ladies were having themaid brush their gowns, soiled from suburban travel and the dirtystation.
The deuce is in it the way women stare. I took off my hat and jacketfor a reason to stay there, and hung them up as leisurely as I could.
"Nance," I said under my breath, to the alert-eyed, pug-nosed girl inthe mirror, who gave a quick glance about the room as I bent to wash myhands, "women stare 'cause they're women. There's no meaning in theirlook. If they were men, now, you might twitter."
I smoothed my hair and reached out my hand to get my hat and jacketwhen—when—
Oh, it was long; long enough to cover you from your chin to your heels!It was a dark, warm red, and it had a high collar of chinchilla thatwas fairly scrumptious. And just above it the hat hung, a red-clothtoque caught up on the side with some of the same fur.
The black maid misunderstood my involuntary gesture. I had all my bestduds on, and when a lot of women stare it makes the woman