white
bust and the dark bookcase, the girl herself was like some unlawful
spirit which had slid in there, and stood trembling and vibrating, ready
to be shuttered out.

Before this apparition Hilary recoiled towards the door, hesitated, and
returned.

"You should not have come here," he muttered, "after what we said to you
yesterday."

The little model answered quickly: "But I've seen Hughs, Mr. Dallison.
He's found out where I live. Oh, he does look dreadful; he frightens me.
I can't ever stay there now."

She had come a little out of her hiding-place, and stood fidgeting her
hands and looking down.

'She's not speaking the truth,' thought Hilary.

The little model gave him a furtive glance. "I did see him," she said.
"I must go right away now; it wouldn't be safe, would it?" Again she
gave him that swift look.

Hilary thought suddenly: 'She is using my own weapon against me. If she
has seen the man, he didn't frighten her. It serves me right!' With a
dry laugh, he turned his back.

There was a rustling round. The little model had moved out of her
retreat, and stood between him and the door. At this stealthy action,
Hilary felt once more the tremor which had come over him when he sat
beside her in the Broad Walk after the baby's funeral. Outside in the
garden a pigeon was pouring forth a continuous love song; Hilary heard
nothing of it, conscious only of the figure of the girl behind him--that
young figure which had twined itself about his senses.

"Well, what is it you want?" he said at last.

The little model answered by another question.

"Are you really going away, Mr. Dallison?"

"I am."

She raised her hands to the level of her breast, as though she meant to
clasp them together; without doing so, however, she dropped them to
her sides. They were cased in very worn suede gloves, and in this dire
moment of embarrassment Hilary's eyes fastened themselves on those slim
hands moving against her skirt.

The little model tried at once to slip them away behind her. Suddenly
she said in her matter-of-fact voice: "I only wanted to ask--Can't I
come too?"

At this question, whose simplicity might have made an angel smile,
Hilary experienced a sensation as if his bones had been turned to water.
It was strange--delicious--as though he had been suddenly offered all
that he wanted of her, without all those things that he did not want. He
stood regarding her silently. Her cheeks and neck were red; there was