“Have to go now. She crawled into her small bed, dizzy with the thoughts of him, of kissing him. He took her hands firmly in his and raised them to his lips. , like to forget all about it—even their names. When the turnkey, next morning, stepp'd into his room, The sight of the hole in the wall struck him dumb; The sheriff's black bracelets lay strewn on the ground, But the lad that had worn 'em could nowhere be found. She took his hand in hers. Bring me clothing, I beg of you. She went on her way now no longer dreaming and appreciative, but disturbed and unwillingly observant behind her mask of serene contentment.
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