But to what purpose?
She's not for me. She never could be. Yet--well I shall see her again.
That's a joy to live for ... anyway. But it's too late to expect her
now. There's nothing left but to dream of her."

While thus soliloquising, kicking the pebbles as an accompaniment to his
thoughts, Vane neared the corner of Moor Fields leading to Cripples Gate
and was pounced upon by a couple of noisy fellows, friends of his, who,
newly sprung with wine, would have him go with them to the "Bear and
Staff" close to the Gate.

"No--no," protested Vane, "I'm not in the mood."

"The very reason why you should drink," quoth one.

"But I've sworn not to touch a drop of anything stronger than coffee or
chocolate for a week. I had too much port last night."

"Worse and worse. Hang it man, whatever you may have been at Oxford
University you are no disputant now. Your resolution to be virtuous for
a week won't last a day unless you strengthen it. And what strengthens
the wit more than wine?"

"Get thee gone Satan. I'm not to be tempted by a paradox."

Vane did not speak with conviction. His spirits were low. Curll's offer
was worrying him. To be in the service of such a man, whose personal
character was as infamous as some of the books he published, was a
humiliation. It meant the prostitution of his faculties. He shuddered at
the prospect of becoming one of Curll's slaves to some of whom he paid a
mere pittance and who were sunk so low they had no alternative but to do
his bidding.

Meanwhile the second man had thrust his arm within Vane's and had led
him along a few paces, when suddenly the imprisoned arm was withdrawn
and Vane pulled himself up. He had caught sight of a Nithsdale cloak
with the face he had been dreaming about all day peeping from beneath
the hood.

"Jarvis--Compton--let me go," he exclaimed, "another time."

He violently wrenched himself free. They followed his eyes and
instinctively guessed the reason of his objection. The figure in the
cloak had turned but there was an unmistakeable suggestion of lingering
in her attitude.

"Man alive," laughed Jarvis, "your argument's unanswerable. We give you
best. Woman has conquered as she always does. Good luck."

Vane did not stay to listen to the banter of his friends but hastened
towards the cloak.

"You're my good angel," he whispered holding out both his hands.

"I'm afraid I've come at a wrong moment. I'm taking you from your
friends," said the girl in