I had only two years with her, and during that time I had the
pleasure of seeing her nearly starve. I had no money and got very little
work; in the usual way of things, I came into my little bit of
money--it's precious little--too late. She was very pretty and a good
girl, but not a lady by birth--no, not a lady, Austin. Consequently my
folk--my respectable well-to-do folk--left her pretty nearly to
starve--and me to look on at it. That's among the reasons why I'm so
fond of respectable well-to-do people, why I have a natural inclination
to acquiesce in their claim to all the virtues."

"Does Miss Driver know this?"

"Yes." He paused a moment. "She knows this--and a little more--which may
or may not turn out material some day."

These words started my alarm afresh. Did he mean still to be in touch
with Jenny, still to keep up communication with her--a hold on her--even
though he went? If that were so, there was no end in sight, and no
peace. The next instant he relieved me from that fear by adding in a low
pensive voice, "But not while I live; we know each other no more after
to-day."

Our eyes met again. He nodded at me, confirming his last words. "You may
rely on that," he seemed to say.

"Do you leave by an early train to-morrow?" I asked.

"Yes--first thing in the morning."

"By this time to-morrow I shall feel very kindly toward you, Octon, and
the more kindly for what you've told me to-day."

"I believe you will, and I understand the deferred payment of your
love." He smiled at me again. "You're true to your salt, and I suppose
you're a bit in love yourself, though you don't seem to know anything
about it. Well, take care of her--take care of this great woman."

"I don't want to talk about her to you. I don't see the good of it."

"You ought to want to, because I understand her. But since you
don't----" He dropped the poker with a clatter and reared himself to his
height. "I'd better go, for, as heaven's above us, I can talk and think
of nothing else--till to-morrow."

"Where are you going to?"

"Into the dark"--he laughed gruffly--"Continent. Did my melodrama alarm
you? Not that it's dark any longer--more's the pity! It's not very
likely we shall meet again this side the Styx." He held out his hand to
me with a genuinely friendly air.

"We're both young!" I said as I clasped his hand. In the end, still, I
liked him, and his story had moved me to a new pity. It was all of a
piece with his perversi