ast,
and in the present seeing only common things, though from an odd point
of view. Here her senses seemed to make literal the assumption by which
her mind had always been directed: that she--Nancy Lord--was the mid
point of the universe. No humility awoke in her; she felt the stirring
of envies, avidities, unavowable passions, and let them flourish
unrebuked.

Crewe had his eyes fixed upon her; his lips parted hungrily.

'Now _that's_ how I should like to see you painted,' he said all at
once. 'Just like that! I never saw you looking so well. I believe you're
the most beautiful girl to be found anywhere in this London!'

There was genuine emotion in his voice, and his sweeping gesture suited
the mood of vehemence. Nancy, having seen that the two or three other
people on the platform were not within hearing, gave an answer of which
the frankness surprised even herself.

'Portraits for the Academy cost a great deal, you know.'

'I know. But that's what I'm working for. There are not many men down
yonder,' he pointed over the City, 'have a better head for money-making
than I have.'

'Well, prove it,' replied Nancy, and laughed as the wind caught her
breath.

'How long will you give me?'

She made no answer, but walked to the side whence she could look
westward. Crewe followed close, his features still set in the hungry
look, his eyes never moving from her warm cheek and full lips.

'What it must be,' she said, 'to have about twenty thousand a year!'

The man of business gave a gasp. In the same moment he had to clutch at
his hat, lest it should be blown away.

'Twenty thousand a year?' he echoed. 'Well, it isn't impossible. Men get
beyond that, and a good deal beyond it. But it's a large order.'

'Of course it is. But what was it you said? The most beautiful girl in
all London? That's a large order, too, isn't it? How much is she worth?'

'You're talking for the joke now,' said Crewe. 'I don't like to hear
that kind of thing, either. You never think in that way.'

'My thoughts are my own. I may think as I choose.'

'Yes. But you have thoughts above money.'

'Have I? How kind of you to say so.--I've had enough of this wind; we'll
go down.'

She led the way, and neither of them spoke till they were in the street
again. Nancy felt her hair.

'Am I blown to pieces?' she asked.

'No, no; you're all right. Now, will you walk through the City?'

'Where's the place you spoke of?'

'Farringdon Street. T