--for him! I wonder how you----"
and she clapped her hands excitedly. "Yes," she said, her boredom all
forgotten, "that's it! I always thought that Mr. Alison was far too
stiff; I've got a name for you."

"For _me_?" That silly blood was jumping in his brain.

"Yes," she cried. "Ally! I shall call you Ally, just like Ally
Sloper! That's better than Bert."

Ally. It was not romantic, no; but still----

Gad, what a ripping little girl she was!

He wished to goodness he hadn't ever thought about that kiss. He could
have been ever so much more amusing, make her like him more, if only he
hadn't got that possibility before him. And yet ... perhaps it was
worth while.

But Helena had no such abstract thrill to keep her eyes open and it was
well after eleven. She wished now that Mr. Alison had not come in.
When Hubert got back, they'd sit and have drinks. She wished that he
would go. And how she longed to yawn! If only he would even be
amusing....

"Have you seen my snap-shot album?" she asked. In their two years of
friendship, it had never come to this before.

"No," he said. "May I?" feeling very young. He knew that he was being
entertained.

She leant down wearily to get it from the bookshelfs lower row. Her
smooth white neck stretched in a rounded slope before him. By Gad!
His hands moved restlessly towards her. This was his great chance.
She might not even ever know!

And then--she was so innocent. Suppose she boxed his ears or anything
like that? Supposing she told Brett?...

"No, don't worry with it," he said, finding it quite hard to speak. "I
think I'd better go. It's too late for snap-shots! He must have
missed his train."

"He'll be here any moment now," she felt compelled to say.

"I know," he answered meaningly, as though that explained his going.
She did not notice of course, was just puzzled for a moment, but it
gave him another thrill. As he passed through the hall, with her
beside him, he saw the minute hand was nearer to midnight than to any
other hour; a very dissipated time....

And outside, in the little garden, he drew a long breath, as though to
set free the vanquished evil thoughts. He felt he had been very good
to-night in face of opportunities for other things.

St. Anthony himself could not have felt much more complacent.

CHAPTER XII

DEVILS

Hubert groped his way homewards along the ill-lit road, filled by a
certain shame but also nearly chuc