t's only me."

"Don't knock at all," she said; "it might be noticed. Why should you
knock to go into your own stable?"

"I won't, then. And how about your wet things?"

"That's nothing. I'm accustomed to being wet."

I crawled back to the cottage, and managed to scramble in by the parlour
window, only to sink once more into my armchair in a state of collapse.
I had always entered so acutely into the joys and sorrows of others,
their love affairs, their difficulties, their bereavements (I had in
this way led such a full life), that I was surprised at this juncture to
find my nervous force so exhausted, until I remembered that ardent
natures who give out a great deal in the way of helpfulness and interest
are bound to suffer when the reaction comes. The reaction had come for
me now. I saw only too plainly the folly I had been guilty of in
harbouring a total stranger, the trouble I should probably get into, the
difficulty that a nature naturally frank and open to a fault would find
in keeping up a deception. I doubted my own powers, everything. The
truth was--but I did not realise it till afterwards--that I had missed
my tea.

I could hear my servant laying my evening meal in the houseplace. In a
few minutes she tapped to tell me it was ready, and I rose mechanically
to obey the summons. And then, to my horror, I found I was still in
morning dress. For the first time for years I had not dressed for
dinner. What would she think if she saw me? But it was too late to
change now; I must just go in as I was. My whole life seemed dislocated,
torn up by the roots.

There was not much to eat. Half a very small cold chicken, a lettuce,
and a little custard pudding, fortunately very nutritious, being made
with Eustace Miles's proteid. There were, however, a loaf and butter and
plasmon biscuits on the sideboard. I cut up as much as I dared of the
chicken, and put it between two very thick slices of buttered bread.
Then I crept out again and took it to her. She got up out of the hay,
and put out a gnarled brown hand for it.

"I will bring you a cup of coffee later," I said. I was beginning to
feel a kind of proprietorship in her. She would have starved but for me.

My servant always left at nine o'clock, to sleep at her father's
cottage, just over the way. I have a bell in the roof, which I can ring
with a cord in case of fire or thieves.

To-night she was, of course, later than usual, but at last she brought
in the coffee,