ge man with a mysterious, voluptuous glance--she practised the
glance, lying on the bed--and never another worry, just drugged with
happiness. That was the life for her. Well, the thing to do was to
let Casimir go on his wild-goose chase that evening, and while he was
away--What! Also--please to remember--there was the rent to be paid
before twelve next morning, and she hadn't the money for a square
meal. At the thought of food she felt a sharp twinge in her stomach, a
sensation as though there were a hand in her stomach, squeezing it dry.
She was terribly hungry--all Casimir's fault--and that man had lived on
the fat of the land ever since he was born. He looked as though he
could order a magnificent dinner. Oh, why hadn't she played her cards
better?--he'd been sent by Providence--and she'd snubbed him. "If I had
that time over again, I'd be safe by now." And instead of the ordinary
man who had spoken with her at the door her mind created a brilliant,
laughing image, who would treat her like a queen... "There's only one
thing I could not stand--that he should be coarse or vulgar. Well,
he wasn't--he was obviously a man of the world, and the way he
apologised... I have enough faith in my own power and beauty to know I
could make a man treat me just as I wanted to be treated."... It floated
into her dreams--that sweet scent of cigarette smoke. And then she
remembered that she had heard nobody go down the stone stairs. Was it
possible that the strange man was still there?... The thought was too
absurd--Life didn't play tricks like that--and yet--she was quite
conscious of his nearness. Very quietly she got up, unhooked from the
back of the door a long white gown, buttoned it on--smiling slyly. She
did not know what was going to happen. She only thought: "Oh, what fun!"
and that they were playing a delicious game--this strange man and she.
Very gently she turned the door-handle, screwing up her face and biting
her lip as the lock snapped back. Of course, there he was--leaning
against the banister rail. He wheeled round as she slipped into the
passage.

"Da," she muttered, folding her gown tightly around her, "I must go
downstairs and fetch some wood. Brr! the cold!"

"There isn't any wood," volunteered the strange man. She gave a little
cry of astonishment, and then tossed her head.

"You again," she said scornfully, conscious the while of his merry eye,
and the fresh, strong smell of his healthy body.

"The landlady