emed to him distinctly a concession to impulses he ought to have
controlled; but to this resolve he had come, and it was now too late to
recommence the arguments with himself. Too late? Well, not strictly so;
he had committed himself to nothing; up to the last moment of freedom he
could always--

That was doubtless Marian's knock at the front door. He jumped up,
walked the length of the room, sat down on another chair, returned to
his former seat. Then the door opened and Marian came in.

She was not surprised; the landlady had mentioned to her that Mr Milvain
was upstairs, waiting the return of his sisters.

'I am to make 'Dora's excuses,' Jasper said. 'She begged you would
forgive her--that you would wait.'

'Oh yes.'

'And you were to be sure to take off your hat,' he added in a laughing
tone; 'and to let me put your umbrella in the corner--like that.'

He had always admired the shape of Marian's head, and the beauty of her
short, soft, curly hair. As he watched her uncovering it, he was pleased
with the grace of her arms and the pliancy of her slight figure.

'Which is usually your chair?'

'I'm sure I don't know.'

'When one goes to see a friend frequently, one gets into regular
habits in these matters. In Biffen's garret I used to have the most
uncomfortable chair it was ever my lot to sit upon; still, I came to
feel an affection for it. At Reardon's I always had what was supposed to
be the most luxurious seat, but it was too small for me, and I eyed it
resentfully on sitting down and rising.'

'Have you any news about the Reardons?'

'Yes. I am told that Reardon has had the offer of a secretaryship to a
boys' home, or something of the kind, at Croydon. But I suppose there'll
be no need for him to think of that now.'

'Surely not!'

'Oh there's no saying.'

'Why should he do work of that kind now?'

'Perhaps his wife will tell him that she wants her money all for
herself.'

Marian laughed. It was very rarely that Jasper had heard her laugh at
all, and never so spontaneously as this. He liked the music.

'You haven't a very good opinion of Mrs Reardon,' she said.

'She is a difficult person to judge. I never disliked her, by any means;
but she was decidedly out of place as the wife of a struggling author.
Perhaps I have been a little prejudiced against her since Reardon
quarrelled with me on her account.'

Marian was astonished at this unlooked-for explanation of the rupture
between Milvain