epmother. When he married her your mother hadn't been
dead so very long, had she?"

"No. But he never cared for mother anything like so much as he cared for
Mrs. Lobley--at least not as far back as I can remember. It was a
different sort of thing altogether. I think he was perfectly mad about
Mrs. Lobley. Oh! He stood mother's death much--much better than hers!
You've no idea--"

"Oh yes, I have. We know all about that sort of thing," said George the
man of the world impatiently.

Marguerite said tenderly:

"It's broken him."

"Nonsense!"

"It has, George." Her voice was very soft.

But George would not listen to the softness of her voice.

"Well," he objected firmly and strongly, "supposing it has! What then?
We're sorry for him. What then? That affair has nothing to do with our
affair. Is all that reason why I shouldn't see you in your own home? Or
are we to depend on Agg--when she happens to be at her studio? Or are we
always to see each other in the street, or in museums and things--or
steamers--just as if you were a shop-girl? We may just as well look
facts in the face, you know."

She flushed. Her features changed under emotion.

"Oh! George! I don't know what to do."

"Then you think he's determined not to have anything to do with me?"

She was silent.

"You think he's determined not to have anything to do with me, I say?"

"He may change," Marguerite murmured.

"'May change' be dashed! We've got to know where we stand."

He most surprisingly stood up, staring at her. She did not speak, but
she lifted her eyes to his with timid courage. They were wet. George
abruptly walked away along the deck. The steamer was passing the
custom-house again. The tide had now almost slacked. Fresh and heavier
clouds had overcast the sky. All the varied thoughts of the afternoon
were active in George's head at once: architecture, architects, beauty,
professional injustices, girls--his girl. Each affected the others, for
they were deeply entangled. It is a fact that he could not put Inigo
Jones and Christopher Wren out of his head; he wondered what had been
their experiences with women, histories and textbooks of architecture
did not treat of this surely important aspect of architecture! He
glanced at Marguerite from the distance. He remembered what Agg had said
to him about her; but what Agg had said did not appear to help him
practically.... Why had he left Marguerite? Why was he standing thirty
feet from her