t was not my
intention to rouse her compassion. I told her also that I had stolen
five shillings one evening.

She sat and listened, with open mouth, pale, frightened, her shining
eyes completely bewildered. I desired to make it good again, to
disperse the sad impression I had made, and I pulled myself up.

"Well, it is all over now!" I said; "there can be no talk of such a
thing happening again; I am saved now...."

But she was much dispirited. "The Lord preserve me!" was all she said,
then kept silent. She repeated this at short intervals, and kept silent
after each "the Lord preserve me."

I began to jest, caught hold of her, tried to tickle her, lifted her up
to my breast. I was irritated not a little--indeed, downright hurt. Was
I more unworthy in her eyes now, than if I had myself been instrumental
in causing the falling out of my hair? Would she have thought more of
me if I had made myself out to be a _roue_?... No nonsense now;... it
was just a matter of going at it; and if it was only just a matter of
going at it, so, by the living...

"No;... what do you want?" she queried, and she added these distressing
words, "I can't be sure that you are not insane!"

I checked myself involuntarily, and I said: "You don't mean that!"

"Indeed, God knows I do! you look so strangely. And the forenoon you
followed me--after all, you weren't tipsy that time?"

"No; but I wasn't hungry then, either; I had just eaten...."

"Yes; but that made it so much the worse."

"Would you rather I had been tipsy?"

"Yes ... ugh ... I am afraid of you! Lord, can't you let me be now!"

I considered a moment. No, I couldn't let her be.... I happened, as if
inadvertently, to knock over the light, so that it went out. She made a
despairing struggle--gave vent at last to a little whimper.

"No, not that! If you like, you may rather kiss me, oh, dear, kind...."

I stopped instantly. Her words sounded so terrified, so helpless, I was
struck to the heart. She meant to offer me a compensation by giving me
leave to kiss her! How charming, how charmingly naive. I could have
fallen down and knelt before her.

"But, dear pretty one," I said, completely bewildered, "I don't
understand.... I really can't conceive what sort of a game this is...."

She rose, lit the candle again with trembling hands. I leant back on
the sofa and did nothing. What would happen now? I was in reality very
ill at ease.

She cast a look over at the clock on th