real address. He might have mentioned some other street, and
thus have gained time; but a second thought told her that, with the
pursuing taxi so close upon their heels, an attempt to deceive would have
been useless. The policy of defiance was the only one.

For a few moments neither the girl nor the man spoke, although Annesley
felt that there were a thousand things to say. Every second was taking
them nearer to Torrington Square; and their parting must come soon. After
that, all would be blankness for her, as before this wonderful night.

Such thoughts made the girl a prisoner of silence; and "Mr. Smith" was
also tongue-tied. Was he concentrating his mind upon some plan of escape
from these mysterious enemies? She told herself this must be so; yet his
first words proved that he had been thinking of the risk she ran.

"If the dragon comes out of her den and catches us at the door, will that
mean a catastrophe for you, or can I be explained away?" he inquired.

"I don't know," said Annesley. "And somehow I don't care!"

"I care," the man replied. "I can't have harm come to you through me. But
tell me, before we go farther--does it matter to you, Miss Grayle, that
in a little while you and I may see the last of each other? I feel I have
a sort of right to ask that question, because it matters such a lot to
me. I've got to know you better in this one evening than I could in a
year in a commonplace way. I don't want you to go out of my life, because
you're the best thing that ever came into it. And if I dared hope that I
might mean to you some day half what you've begun to mean for me already,
why, I wouldn't _let_ you go!"

Annesley clasped her hands under her cloak. They were cold yet tingling.
Her blood was leaping; but she could not speak. She was afraid of saying
too much.

"Can't you give me a grain of hope?" he went on. His voice was wistful.
"We have so little time."

"What--do you want me to say?" Annesley stammered.

"I want you to say--that you don't wish to see the last of me to-night."

"I shouldn't be human if I _could_ wish that!" the words seemed to speak
themselves; and she, who had been taught to repress and hide emotion as
if it were a vice, was glad that the truth was out. After all they had
gone through together she couldn't send this man away believing her
indifferent. "I--it doesn't seem as if we were strangers," she faltered
on.

"Strangers! I should think not," he echoed. "We mayn't kno