ng through the drawing-room towards the passage. It was
Mr. Tudor. He seemed very startled. I tried to appear unconcerned. "What
is the matter?" he asked; he had gone quite pale. "Nothing," I said. "I
only went to fetch a handkerchief." He laughed uneasily. "I was afraid
you had thought better of it and run away from me," he said. And he
kissed me; I was obliged to submit. All this time I was thinking hard
what to do. I suggested we should go on to the roof garden for awhile.
He objected, but finally he gave way, and he brought me the cloak and
hat, and we went to the garden and sat down. I felt safer there. At last
I ventured to tell him that I must go home. Of course, he objected to
that too, but he gave way a second time. "I will just speak to Mrs.
Dant," I said. "You stay here for three minutes. By that time I shall be
ready." And I went off towards the flat, but as soon as I was out of his
sight I turned and ran here. And that's all.'

'You are a wonderful creature,' Hugo murmured, looking at her
meditatively.

'Why?' The question was put with a sort of artless and melancholy
surprise.

'How can I tell?' said Hugo. 'How can I tell why Heaven made you so?'

She laughed, and the laugh enchanted him. He had studied her during her
recital; he had observed her continual effort to use ordinary words and
ordinary tones like a garment to hide vivid sensations and emotions
which, however, shone through the garment as her face might have shone
through a veil.

He recalled her little gestures, inflections, glances--the thousand
avenues by which her rich and overflowing individuality escaped from
the prison of her will, and impressed itself on the rest of the created
universe. Her story was decidedly singular, and as mysterious as it was
singular; that something sinister would be brought to light, he felt
sure. But what occupied and charmed his mind was the exquisite fact that
between him and her relations were now established. The story, her past
danger, even her possible future danger--these things only interested
him in so far as they formed the basis of an intimacy. He exulted in
being near her, in the savour of her commanding presence. When he
thought of her in his monstrous shop, wilting in the heat, bowing
deferentially to fools, martyrizing her soul for less than two pounds a
week, he thought of kings' daughters sold into slavery. But she was a
princess now, and for evermore, and she had come to him of her own fre