take the opportunity to
say something to him; he thought she would ask why he never came to one of
her tables now, and he had prepared an answer charged with all the
loathing he felt for her. He knew it was absurd to trouble, but he could
not help himself. She had beaten him again. The German suddenly
disappeared, but Philip still sat at other tables. She paid no attention
to him. Suddenly he realised that what he did was a matter of complete
indifference to her; he could go on in that way till doomsday, and it
would have no effect.

"I've not finished yet," he said to himself.

The day after he sat down in his old seat, and when she came up said
good-evening as though he had not ignored her for a week. His face was
placid, but he could not prevent the mad beating of his heart. At that
time the musical comedy had lately leaped into public favour, and he was
sure that Mildred would be delighted to go to one.

"I say," he said suddenly, "I wonder if you'd dine with me one night and
come to The Belle of New York. I'll get a couple of stalls."

He added the last sentence in order to tempt her. He knew that when the
girls went to the play it was either in the pit, or, if some man took
them, seldom to more expensive seats than the upper circle. Mildred's pale
face showed no change of expression.

"I don't mind," she said.

"When will you come?"

"I get off early on Thursdays."

They made arrangements. Mildred lived with an aunt at Herne Hill. The play
began at eight so they must dine at seven. She proposed that he should
meet her in the second-class waiting-room at Victoria Station. She showed
no pleasure, but accepted the invitation as though she conferred a favour.
Philip was vaguely irritated.

LVII

Philip arrived at Victoria Station nearly half an hour before the time
which Mildred had appointed, and sat down in the second-class
waiting-room. He waited and she did not come. He began to grow anxious,
and walked into the station watching the incoming suburban trains; the
hour which she had fixed passed, and still there was no sign of her.
Philip was impatient. He went into the other waiting-rooms and looked at
the people sitting in them. Suddenly his heart gave a great thud.

"There you are. I thought you were never coming."

"I like that after keeping me waiting all this time. I had half a mind to
go back home again."

"But you said you'd come to the second-class waiting-room."

"I didn't say any