t me any more. You can't
blame them either, can you? Them places, they can't afford to have girls
that aren't strong."

"You don't look very well now," said Philip.

"I wasn't fit to come out tonight, but I couldn't help myself, I wanted
the money. I wrote to Emil and told him I was broke, but he never even
answered the letter."

"You might have written to me."

"I didn't like to, not after what happened, and I didn't want you to know
I was in difficulties. I shouldn't have been surprised if you'd just told
me I'd only got what I deserved."

"You don't know me very well, do you, even now?"

For a moment he remembered all the anguish he had suffered on her account,
and he was sick with the recollection of his pain. But it was no more than
recollection. When he looked at her he knew that he no longer loved her.
He was very sorry for her, but he was glad to be free. Watching her
gravely, he asked himself why he had been so besotted with passion for
her.

"You're a gentleman in every sense of the word," she said. "You're the
only one I've ever met." She paused for a minute and then flushed. "I hate
asking you, Philip, but can you spare me anything?"

"It's lucky I've got some money on me. I'm afraid I've only got two
pounds."

He gave her the sovereigns.

"I'll pay you back, Philip."

"Oh, that's all right," he smiled. "You needn't worry."

He had said nothing that he wanted to say. They had talked as if the whole
thing were natural; and it looked as though she would go now, back to the
horror of her life, and he would be able to do nothing to prevent it. She
had got up to take the money, and they were both standing.

"Am I keeping you?" she asked. "I suppose you want to be getting home."

"No, I'm in no hurry," he answered.

"I'm glad to have a chance of sitting down."

Those words, with all they implied, tore his heart, and it was dreadfully
painful to see the weary way in which she sank back into the chair. The
silence lasted so long that Philip in his embarrassment lit a cigarette.

"It's very good of you not to have said anything disagreeable to me,
Philip. I thought you might say I didn't know what all."

He saw that she was crying again. He remembered how she had come to him
when Emil Miller had deserted her and how she had wept. The recollection
of her suffering and of his own humiliation seemed to render more
overwhelming the compassion he felt now.

"If I could only get out of it!" she moan