aid in a strangled voice. "You
know! I told you about her. Lord, man, don't look so confoundedly
ignorant! I told you about her," he broke off. "Well, some one's told
the mater, and this morning...." he shrugged his shoulders. "There's
been old Harry to pay! She told me if I didn't give her up she'd cut
me out of her will. She would, too!" he added, in savage parenthesis.

"Well! and what did you say?"

Ashton looked round.

"Hang it all! what could I say? Told her I would, of course."

There was a sharp silence.

"I thought you liked the girl," said Micky bluntly.

The other man winced.

"So I did--so I do.... It's a rotten shame. If you'd ever seen her ...
you never have, have you?"

"No."

"Neither has the mater.... Women are all the same; because the girl
has to work for her living they think she isn't fit for me to
marry.... It's all a lot of rot.... However--beggars can't be
choosers--and so I'm off to-night."

Micky looked at him keenly.

"You mean that you're going without a word to the girl?"

"What can I do?--I went and saw her this morning--we had a rotten
scene. I meant to tell her it was all up, but somehow I couldn't; I'm
too dashed fond of her, and that's the truth. I can't bear to see her
cry--it makes me feel such a cur...."

He waited a moment, but Micky made no comment.

"So the only thing is to clear out," Ashton went on jerkily. "I can't
afford to quarrel with the mater, you know that.... Perhaps some
day...." He stopped. "After all, she can't live for ever," he added
brutally.

Micky said nothing.

"So I'm off to-night," Ashton went on with an effort. "I wanted to see
you--I knew I could trust you...." He fumbled in a pocket. "There's a
letter here.... I've written--I couldn't see her again. I know I'm a
coward, but ... well, there it is!"

He threw the letter down on the table.

"Will you go and see her, old chap, and give her that?" he asked with
an effort. "Tell her I--oh, tell her what you like," he went on
fiercely. "Tell her that if I could afford it...."

He stopped again, and this time the silence was unbroken for some
minutes.

Then he roused himself and picked up his coat. "Well, I must be
getting along. I left my baggage at the station."

He looked at Micky. "I suppose you think I'm an infernal sweep, eh?"
he asked curtly.

"No," said Micky.

He had always expected that Ashton's romance would end like this, and
he felt vaguely sorry for the girl, though h