e dreadfully."

George gazed at her person. Under the thin glove he suddenly detected
the form of her ring. She was wearing it again, then. (He could not
remember whether she had worn it at their last meeting, in Agg's studio.
The very curious fact was that at their last meeting he had forgotten to
look for the ring.) Not only was she wearing the ring, but she carried a
stylish little handbag which he had given her. When he bought that bag,
in the Burlington Arcade, it had been a bag like any other bag. But now
it had become part of her, individualized by her personality, a
mysterious and provocative bag. Everything she wore, down to her boots
and even her bootlaces so neatly threaded and knotted, was mysterious
and provocative. He examined her face. It was marvellously beautiful; it
was ordinary; it was marvellously beautiful. He knew her to the depths;
he did not know her at all; she was a chance acquaintance; she was a
complete stranger.

"How are you getting on with him? You know you really ought to tell me."

"Oh, George!" she said, earnestly vivacious. "You're wrong in thinking
he's not nice to me. He is He's quite forgiven me."

"Forgiven you!" George took her up. "I should like to know what he had
to forgive."

"Well," she murmured timorously. "You understand what I mean."

He drummed his elegant feet on the striated deck. Out of the corner of
his left eye he saw the mediaeval shape of the Tower rapidly
disappearing. In front were the variegated funnels and masts of fleets
gathered together in St. Katherine's Dock and London Dock. The steamer
gained speed as she headed from Cherry Gardens Pier towards the middle
of the river. She was a frail trifle compared with the big boats that
lined the wharves; but in herself she had size and irresistible force,
travelling quite smoothly over the short, riotous, sparkling waves which
her cut-water divided and spurned away on either side. Only a tremor
faintly vibrated throughout her being.

"Has he forgiven you for being engaged?" George demanded, with rough
sarcasm.

She showed no resentment of his tone, but replied gently:

"I did try to mention it once, but it was no use--he wasn't in a
condition. He made me quite afraid--not for me of course, but for him."

"Well, I give it up!" said George. "I simply give it up! It's past me.
How soon's he going to _be_ in condition? He can't keep us walking about
the streets for ever."

"No, of course not!" She smiled to