corner, when some one came up to me, and it was
Mr. Bolter. He had followed me from the house. He laughed, said I had
done quite right, and asked me if I had any money. I shook my head. He
walked on by me, and talked. The end was, that he found me rooms, and
provided for me.

"I had not the least affection for him, but he had pleasant,
gentlemanly ways, and it scarcely even occurred to me to refuse his
offers. I was reckless; what happened to me mattered little, as long as
I had not to face hard work. I needed rest. For one in my position
there was, I saw well enough, only one way of getting it. I took that
way."

Ida had told this in a straightforward, unhesitating manner, not
meeting her companion's gaze, yet not turning away. One would have said
that judgments upon her story were indifferent to her; she simply
related past events. In a moment, she resumed.

"Do you remember, on the night when you first met me, a man following
us in the street?"

Waymark nodded.

"He was a friend of Alfred Bolter's, and sometimes we met him when we
went to the theatre, and such places. That is the only person I ever
hated from the first sight,--hated and dreaded in a way I could not
possibly explain."

"But why do you mention him?" asked Waymark. "What is his name?"

"His name is Edwards," returned Ida, pronouncing it as if the sound
excited loathing in her. "I had been living in this way for nearly
half-a-year, when one day this man called and came up to my
sitting-room. He said he had an appointment with Mr. Bolter, who would
come presently. I sat scarcely speaking, but he talked on. Presently,
Mr. Bolter came. He seemed surprised to find the other man with me, and
almost at once turned round and went out again. Edwards followed him,
saying to me that he wondered what it all meant. The meaning was made
clear to me a few hours after. There came a short note from Mr. Bolter,
saying that he had suspected that something was wrong, and that under
the circumstances he could of course only say good-bye.

I can't say that I was sorry; I can't say that I was glad. I despised
him for his meanness, not even troubling myself to try and make sure of
what had happened. The same night Edwards came to see me again, made
excuses, blamed his friend, shuffled here and there, and gave me
clearly to understand what he wanted. I scarcely spoke, only told him
to go away, and that he need never speak to me anywhere or at any time;
it would be u