ould do me much good,"
she sighed. "But at the time I took the place I was quite
desperate."

The captain of the _Seamew_ made no comment. They were walking up
the hill through a quiet street. Of course, there was no pursuit.
But the young man began to feel that he might have done the girl
more harm than good by espousing her cause in the restaurant.
Perhaps he had been too impulsive.

"You--you can find other and more pleasant work, I am sure," he said
with hesitation. "I hope you will forgive me for thrusting myself
into your concerns, but I really could not stand for that man
backing up your customer instead of you. He did order meringue pie.
I heard him."

She smiled, and he caught the faint flicker of it as it curved her
lips and made her eyes shine for an instant. Minute following
minute, she was becoming more attractive. His voice trembled when he
spoke again:

"I--I hope you will forgive me."

"You did just what I should have expected my brother to do, if I had
a brother," she replied frankly. "But few girls who work at Sellers'
have brothers."

"No?" Something in her voice, rather than in the words, startled
Tunis.

"Let me put it differently," she said, still with that gentle
cadence which ameliorated the bitterness of her tone. "Girls who
have brothers seldom fall into Sellers' clutches. You see, he is a
last resort. He does not demand references, and he poses as a
philanthropist."

Tunis felt confused, in a maze. He could not imagine where the girl
was tacking. He was keenly aware, however, that there was a mystery
about her being employed at all in Sellers' restaurant.

They came out at last upon the brow of the hill overlooking the
Common. The lamps glimmered along Tremont Street through an
opalescent haze which was stealing over the city from the bay.
Without question they went down the steps side by side. There was a
bench in a shadow and, without touching her, Tunis steered the
girl's steps toward it.

She sat down with an involuntary sigh of weariness. She had been on
her feet most of the time since eleven o'clock. She relaxed in
contact with the back of the bench, and he could see the contour of
her throat and chin thrown up in relief against the background of
shadow. The whole relaxed attitude of her slim body betrayed
exhaustion.

"I hope you will not blame me too severely," Tunis stammered.

"I don't blame you."

"I fear you will after you have taken time to think it over.
But