ill. Close by the Carmelites they turned into a little
alley. The lit doorway of a high building of flats faced them.

"Now, you must come no farther," she said, turning to him and holding
out her hand.

"Let me see you to your door," he pleaded.

"If you will, but it is a climb for nothing."

"What a barrack you live in!" he said, as they went up the stone steps.

"It was built for working men originally, but perhaps there is none
hereabouts. It is now chiefly occupied by working women. They are
extremely pleasant and friendly. To be sure, they are West-End working
women. Now, Sir Robin, I must bid you good-bye."

They were at the very top of the house. The staircase window was wide
open, and the sweet smell of wet earth came in. She had put the
latch-key in the door and opened it--she had turned on the electric
light. Now, as she held out her hand to him in farewell, he caught sight
of the pleasant little room beyond. He had the strongest wish to cross
the threshold on which she was standing; but, of course, it was
impossible.

"When my cousin comes back from abroad," he said, "I want you to know
each other, Miss Gray. Perhaps you will ask us to tea here."

"I shall be delighted," she said frankly.

"You like your quarters?"

He was oddly reluctant to go.

"Very much indeed."

"You are near Heaven."

"I hear the singing at the Carmelites. I can see the tops of the trees
in Kensington Gardens. To be sure, I ought to live nearer my work. But
these things counterbalance the distance. By the way, do you know that
Mrs. Morres is in town?"

"I had not heard."

"She has come up for a week's shopping."

"Ah! I must call on her. I like her douches of cold water on all our
schemes."

"So do I."

He looked at her with a dawning intention in his eyes. Before he could
speak the words that were on his lips the opposite door opened, and a
young woman, wearing an artist's blouse, with close-cropped dark hair
and a frank boyish face, came out.

"I beg your pardon, Miss Gray, do you happen to have any methylated
spirit?"

"Good-night, Miss Gray."

He lifted his hat and went down the stairs. On the next landing he
paused and listened with a smile to the conversation overhead. It
appeared that Mary had only enough methylated spirit for a single
occasion.

"Then you must come to breakfast with me in the morning," said the other
girl. "Can you oblige me with a few slices of bacon?"

It was the true communis