nk I'll be able to work later in the day."

She looked at him curiously, at his face, absolutely devoid of colour,
his eyes, restless and overbright, his long, twitching fingers.

"Bad conscience or drugs?" she asked.

"Bad conscience," he acknowledged. "I've been where you have been--Miss
Grimes. I looked over the edge and I jumped. I'd stay where you are, if
I were you."

"Maybe I shall, maybe I shan't," she replied doggedly. "Stella wants to
bring a boy around to see me. 'You bring him,' I said. 'I'll talk to
him.' Then she got a little confused. Stella's kind, in her way. She came
back after Mr. Martin had gone down the passage. 'See here, kid,' she
said, 'you know as well as I do I can't bring any one round to see you
while you are sitting around in those rags. Let me lend you--' Well, I
stopped her short at that. 'My own plumes or none at all,' I told
her, 'and I'd just as soon he didn't come, anyway.'"

"You're a queer girl," Philip exclaimed. "Where's your father to-day?"

"Usual place," she answered,--"in bed. He never gets up till five."

"Let me order lunch up here for both of us, from the restaurant," he
suggested.

She shook her head.

"No, thanks!"

"Why not?" he persisted.

"I'm going round to the office to see if I can get any extra work."

"But you've got to lunch some time," he persisted.

She laughed a little hardly.

"Have I? We girls haven't got to eat like you men. I'll call up towards
the evening and see if you've anything ready for me."

She was gone before he could stop her. He turned back to his desk and
seated himself. The sight of his last finished sentence presented itself
suddenly in a new light. There was a suggestiveness about it which was
almost poignant. He took up his pen and began to write rapidly.

CHAPTER IV

It was a few minutes after six that evening when Philip was conscious of
a knock at his door. He swung around in his chair, blinking a little.

"Come in!"

Martha Grimes entered. She was in outdoor apparel, that is to say she
wore her hat and a long mackintosh. She remained standing upon the
threshold.

"Just looked up to see if you've got any more work ready," she explained.

He sprang to his feet and stood there, for a moment, unsteadily.

"Come in and shut the door," he ordered. "Look! Look!" he added, pointing
to his table. "Thirty-three sheets! I've been working all the time. I've
been living, I tell you, living God knows where!--not in this