me," Miss Painter continued in the tone of
impartial narrative. "The cabman was impertinent. I've got his number."
She fumbled in a stout black reticule.

"Oh, I can't--" broke from Anna; but she collected herself, remembering
that to betray her unwillingness to see the girl was to risk revealing
much more.

"She thought you might be too tired to see her: she wouldn't come in
till I'd found out."

Anna drew a quick breath. An instant's thought had told her that
Sophy Viner would hardly have taken such a step unless something more
important had happened. "Ask her to come, please," she said.

Miss Painter, from the threshold, turned back to announce her intention
of going immediately to the police station to report the cabman's
delinquency; then she passed out, and Sophy Viner entered.

The look in the girl's face showed that she had indeed come unwillingly;
yet she seemed animated by an eager resoluteness that made Anna ashamed
of her tremors. For a moment they looked at each other in silence, as
if the thoughts between them were packed too thick for speech; then Anna
said, in a voice from which she strove to take the edge of hardness:
"You know where Owen is, Miss Painter tells me."

"Yes; that was my reason for asking you to see me." Sophy spoke simply,
without constraint or hesitation.

"I thought he'd promised you--" Anna interposed.

"He did; but he broke his promise. That's what I thought I ought to tell
you."

"Thank you." Anna went on tentatively: "He left Givre this morning
without a word. I followed him because I was afraid..."

She broke off again and the girl took up her phrase. "You were afraid
he'd guessed? He HAS..."

"What do you mean--guessed what?"

"That you know something he doesn't...something that made you glad to
have me go."

"Oh--" Anna moaned. If she had wanted more pain she had it now. "He's
told you this?" she faltered.

"He hasn't told me, because I haven't seen him. I kept him off--I made
Mrs. Farlow get rid of him. But he's written me what he came to say; and
that was it."

"Oh, poor Owen!" broke from Anna. Through all the intricacies of her
suffering she felt the separate pang of his.

"And I want to ask you," the girl continued, "to let me see him; for
of course," she added in the same strange voice of energy, "I wouldn't
unless you consented."

"To see him?" Anna tried to gather together her startled thoughts. "What
use would it be? What could you tell him?"

"I