Located in the checkroom in Union Station as I am, I see everybody that comes up the stairs.

Harry came in a little over three years ago and waited at the head of the stairs for the passengers from the 9:05 train.

I remember seeing Harry that first evening. He wasn't much more than a thin, anxious kid then. He was all dressed up and I knew he was meeting his girl and that they would be married twenty minutes after she arrived.

Well, the passengers came up and I had to get busy. I didn't look toward the stairs again until nearly time for the 9:18 and I was very surprised to see that the young fellow was still there.

She didn't come on the 9:18 either, nor on the 9:40, and when the passengers from the 10:02 had all arrived and left, Harry was looking pretty desperate. Pretty soon he came close to my window so I called out and asked him what she looked like.

"She's small and dark," he said, "and nineteen years old and very neat in the way she walks. She has a face," he said, thinking a minute,"that has lots of spirit. I mean she can get mad but she never stays mad for long, and her eyebrows come to a little point in the middle. She's got a brown fur, but maybe she isn't wearing it."

I couldn't remember seeing anybody like that.

He showed me the telegram he'd received: ARRIVE THURSDAY. MEET ME STATION. LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE. MAY. It was from Omaha, Nebraska.

"Well," I finally said, "why don't you phone to your home? She's probably called there if she got in ahead of you."

He gave me a sick look. "I've only been in town two days. We were going to meet and then drive down South where I've got a job. She hasn't any address for me." He touched the telegram.

When I came on duty the next day he was still there and came over as soon as he saw me.

"Did she work anywhere?" I asked.

He nodded. "She was a typist. I telegraphed her former boss. All they know is that she left her job to get married."

Harry met every train for the next three or four days. Of course, the railroad lines made a routinecheckup and the police looked into the case. But nobody was any real help. I could see that they all figured that May had simply played a trick on him. But I never believed that, somehow.

One day, after about two weeks, Harry and I were talking and I told him about my theory. "If you'll just wait long enough," I said, "you'll see her coming up those stairs some day." He turned and looked at the stairs as though he had never seen them before.

The next day when I came to work Harry was behind the counter of Tony's magazine stand. He looked at me rather sheepishly and said, "Well, I had to get a job somewhere, didn't I ?"

So he began to work as a clerk for Tony. We never spoke of May anymore and neither of us ever mentioned my theory. But I noticed that Harry always saw every person who came up the stairs.

Toward the end of the year Tony was killed in some argument over gambling, and Tony's widow left Harry in complete charge of the magazine stand. And when she got married again some time later, Harry bought the stand from her. He borrowed money and installed a soda fountain and pretty soon he had a very nice little business.

Then came yesterday. I heard a cry and a lot of things falling. The cry was from Harry and the things falling were a lot of dolls and other things which he had upset while he was jumping over the counter. He ran across and grabbed a girl not ten feet from my window. She was small and dark and her eyebrows came to a little point in the middle.

For a while they just hung there to each other laughing and crying and saying things without meaning. She'd say a few words like, "It was the bus station I meant..." and he'd kiss her speechless and tell her the many things he had done to find her. What apparently had happened three years before was that May had come by bus, not by train, and in her telegram she meant "bus station", not "railroad station". She had waited at the bus station for days and had spent all her money trying to find Harry. Finally she got a job typing.

"What?" said Harry. "Have you been working in town? All the time?"

She nodded.

"Well, heavens. Didn't you ever come down here to the station?" He pointed across to his magazine stand. "I've been there all the time. I own it. I've watched everybody that came up the stairs."

She began to look a little pale. Pretty soon she looked over at the stairs and said in a weak voice, "I never came up the stairs before. You see, I went out of town yesterday on a short business trip. Oh, Harry!" Then she threw her arms around his neck and really began to cry.

After a minute she backed away and pointed very stiffly toward the north end of the station. "Harry, for three years, for three solid years, I've been right over there working right in this very station, typing, in the office of the stationmaster."

我在联合车站的行李寄存处工作，由于工作地点的关系，可以看见走过楼梯的每一个人。

3年前哈里曾来过这儿，站在楼梯口接乘坐9点05分到站的旅客。

我依然记得第一晚见到他时的情景。他那时身材瘦削，神情忧郁，像个孩子似的。他穿戴整齐，我知道他是在等他的女友，并且在她到后20分钟，他们将举行婚礼。

哦，旅客们来了，我得去忙了。直到9点18分我才又有时间往楼梯那边看，令我吃惊的是那年轻人还在那儿。

她既没乘9点18分的车，也没乘9点40分的车到。等10点02分的那次车的旅客都出站后，哈里看起来很失望。不一会儿，他走近我的窗口，我招呼他，问他，她长什么样。

“她矮小的个子，黝黑的皮肤，”他说，“19岁。走起路来干脆利落。她的脸嘛，”他想了一会说，“蕴含着丰富的表情，我是说她会生气，但从不会持续太久。她眉心有颗小痣。她有件棕色毛皮大衣，但也有可能没穿。”

我似乎没见过这样的人。

他拿出电报给我看：“周四到。车站接我。爱爱爱爱。——梅。”电报是从内布拉斯加州的奥马哈市发来的。

“噢，”最后，我说，“你怎么不往家里打个电话?如果她比你先到这儿，她可能已经给你家打电话了。”

他忧郁地看着我，“我才来城里两天。我们约定见面后开车去南方，我工作的那个地方。她没留任何地址给我。”他摆弄着电报。

我第二天去值班时，看到他还在那儿。他看见我就朝我走来。

“她在哪儿工作过呢?”我问。

他点头，说道：“她原来是打字员。我给她原来的老板发过电报。他们只知道她辞职结婚去了。”

接下来的三四天，哈里接了每趟火车。当然，铁路方面也进行了检查，警察也介入了此事。但事实上谁也没能帮上他的忙。看得出来，他们都认为梅只是和他开了个玩笑，但不知为什么，我却从不那么认为。

大约两周后的一天，与哈里聊天时，我把我的想法告诉了他，“如果你等了足够长的时间，”我说，“总有一天，你会看到她从那边楼梯处走来。”他转过身望着楼梯，仿佛从未见过它。

第二天上班时，我发现哈里已站在托尼的杂志摊后面了。他有点儿羞怯地看着我说，“哦，我得找份工作干，是吧?”

就这样他给托尼卖起了杂志。我们没再谈梅，也不提我曾经的那个想法。但是我发觉哈里还是爱看走过楼梯的每个人。

年底，托尼因赌博与别人发生争执而被杀。他的妻子将杂志摊完全交给哈里去打理。不久她再婚了，哈里就把杂志摊买了下来。他又借了些钱，装了个冷饮机，不久小买卖就红火起来。

直到昨天，哈里的生活才有了变化。当时，我听见一阵喊声，随后是东西落地的声音。是哈里在叫。他跳出柜台，把柜台上陈列的玩具和其他东西都掀翻在地，然后从这些东西上跑过去，抓住了一个离我窗户不到10英尺远的女孩。她个子矮小，皮肤黝黑，眉心处有颗小痣。

他们对视了好一会儿，又哭又笑，语无伦次地说着话。她好像说，“我说的是汽车站——，”而他则用热吻盖住了她的嘴，告诉她，在找她的过程中所发生的一切。显然，梅3年前是坐汽车来的，而不是火车。她的电报里指的是“汽车站”而不是“火车站”。她在汽车站等了好几天，为了找哈里，她把身上所有的钱都花光了。后来，她找了份打字员的工作。

“什么?”哈里说，“你一直在城里工作?直到现在?”

她点了点头。

“啊，天哪!难道你从没来过这个车站吗?”他用手指了指杂志摊。“我一直都在那儿。那个摊儿是我的。我留意着每个走过楼梯的人。”

她的脸色变得苍白。接着，她向楼梯望去，用微弱的声音说道：“我从没走过这个楼梯。你看，昨天我出差了。哦，哈里!”然后她用手臂搂紧他的脖子，开始哭了起来。

过了一会儿，她往后站了站，用手指着车站最北头说：“哈里，3年来，整整3年，我就在那儿——这个车站的站长办公室当打字员。”