d not reckoned
fully either with his own nature or with woman's instinct. Nor had he
allowed--being, for all his learning, perhaps because of it, singularly
unable to gauge the effects of simple actions--for the proprietary
relations he had established in the girl's mind by giving her those
clothes.

As a dog whose master has it in his mind to go away from him, stands
gazing up with tragic inquiry in his eyes, scenting to his soul that
coming cruelty--as a dog thus soon to be bereaved, so stood the little
model.

By the pose of every limb, and a fixed gaze bright as if tears were
behind it, and by a sort of trembling, she seemed to say: 'I know why
you have sent for me.'

When Hilary saw her stand like that he felt as a man might when told to
flog his fellow-creature. To gain time he asked her what she did with
herself all day. The little model evidently tried to tell herself that
her foreboding had been needless.

Now that the mornings were nice--she said with some animation--she got
up much earlier, and did her needlework first thing; she then "did out"
the room. There were mouse-holes in her room, and she had bought a trap.
She had caught a mouse last night. She hadn't liked to kill it; she had
put it in a tin box, and let it go when she went out. Quick to see that
Hilary was interested in this, as well he might be, she told him that
she could not bear to see cats hungry or lost dogs, especially lost
dogs, and she described to him one that she had seen. She had not liked
to tell a policeman; they stared so hard. Those words were of strange
omen, and Hilary turned his head away. The little model, perceiving that
she had made an effect of some sort, tried to deepen it. She had
heard they did all sorts of things to people--but, seeing at once from
Hilary's face that she was not improving her effect, she broke off
suddenly, and hastily began to tell him of her breakfast, of how
comfortable she was now she had got her clothes; how she liked her room;
how old Mr. Creed was very funny, never taking any notice of her when he
met her in the morning. Then followed a minute account of where she had
been trying to get work; of an engagement promised; Mr. Lennard, too,
still wanted her to pose to him. At this she gashed a look at Hilary,
then cast down her eyes. She could get plenty of work if she began that
way. But she hadn't, because he had told her not, and, of course, she
didn't want to; she liked coming to Mr. Stone so