ded. "Don't make me feel
a perfect beast. You did care a little? You weren't just talking
nonsense?"

She would have drawn him further down but he kept away.

"Listen," he said, "when I tell you that I am going to write to your
father to-morrow, you know what that means. For the rest, I must think.
Perhaps this is the only way out. Of course, I like you but the truth
is best, isn't it? I hadn't any idea of this. As a matter of fact, I am
rather in love with someone else."

She caught at her breath for a moment, half closed her eyes as thought
to shut out something disagreeable.

"I don't care," she muttered. "You see how low I have fallen--I'll bear
even that. Come," she added, springing up, "my aunt goes to bed before
eleven. You can drive me down there, if you like. Are you going to kiss
me?"

He bent over her a little gravely and his lips touched her forehead. She
caught his face suddenly between her hands and kissed him on the lips.
Then she turned towards the door.

"Of course, I am horribly ashamed," she exclaimed, "but then--well, I'm
myself. Come along, please."

He followed her down into the taxi and they drove off towards
Kensington.

"How long have you known the other girl?" she asked abruptly.

"Very little longer than I have known you," he answered.

She took off her glove. He felt her hand steal into his.

"You'll try and like me a little, please?" she begged. "There hasn't
been any one who cared for so many years--not all my life. When I came
out--ever since I came out--I have behaved just like other properly,
well-brought-up girls. I've just sat and waited. I've rather avoided men
than otherwise. I've sat and waited. Girls haven't liked me much. They
say I'm odd. I'm twenty-eight now, you know. I haven't enjoyed the last
six years. Father's wrapped up in his work. He thinks he has done his
duty if he sends me to London sometimes to stay with my aunt. She
is very much like him, only she is wrapped up in missions instead of
science. Neither of them seems to have time to be human."

"It must have been rotten for you," Granet said kindly.

Her hand clutched his, she came a little nearer.

"Year after year of it," she murmured. "If I had been good-looking,
I should have run away and gone on the stage. If I had been clever,
I should have left home and done something. But I am like millions of
others--I am neither. I had to sit and wait. When I met you, I suddenly
began to realise what it woul