adily on her. Without altering her pace she took a shilling out of
the purse she was carrying and held it in her hand. The man drew up till
he was walking by her side. She felt that he was going to speak to her.
She stopped, held out the hand with the shilling in it, and said:

"Here's a shilling! Take it. I'm sorry I can't afford more than that."

As she finished speaking for the first time she looked at her pursuer,
and met the brown eyes of the living bronze. He stood for an instant
gazing at her veil, and then turned round and walked away in the
direction of Regent Street. The shilling dropped from her hand to the
pavement. She did not try to find it, but at once went on.

It was very seldom that her self-possession was shaken. It was not
exactly shaken now. But the recognition of the stranger whom she had
been thinking about in the man who had followed her in the street
had certainly startled her. For a moment a strong feeling of disgust
overcame her, and she thought of Garstin's brutal comment upon this man.
Was he then really one of the horrible night loungers who abound in
all great cities, one of the night birds who come out when the darkness
falls with vague hopes of doing evil to their own advantage? It was
possible. He must have been hanging about near the door of the Cafe
Royal when she passed and watching the passers-by. He must have seen her
then. Could he have recognized her? In that case perhaps he was merely
an adventurous fellow who had been pushed to the doing of an impertinent
thing by his strong admiration of her. As she thought this she happened
to be passing a lit-up shop, a tobacconist's, which had mirrors fixed on
each side of the window. She stopped and looked into one of the mirrors.
No, he could not have recognized her through the veil she was wearing.
She felt certain of that. But he might have been struck by her figure.
He might have noticed it that night at the Cafe Royal, have fancied he
recognized it to-night, and have followed her because he was curious to
know whether, or not, she was the girl he had already seen and admired.
And of course, as she was walking in Regent Street alone at night, he
must have thought her a girl who would not mind being spoken to. It was
her own fault for being so audacious, so determined always to do what
she wanted to do, however unconventional, even outrageous--according to
commonplace ideas--it was.

She forgave the man his impertinence and smiled as