It was part of his plan for economy to dine always at the Crabtree, where one shilling was the price of an elaborate repast, and he went there on New Year's Day. As he walked up Charing Cross Road, his thoughts turned naturally to Miss Roberts. Would she be as cordial as when he had met her on the omnibus, or would she wear the polite mask of the cashier, treating him merely as a frequenter of the establishment? She was engaged when he entered the dining-room, but she noticed him and nodded. He looked towards her several times during his meal, and once her eyes caught his and she smiled, not withdrawing them for a few moments; then she bent over her account book. His fellow-diners seemed curiously to have degenerated, to have grown still narrower in their sympathies, still more careless in their eating, still more peculiar or shabbier in their dress. The young women of masculine aspect set their elbows on the table more uncompromisingly than ever, and the young men with soiled wristbands or no wristbands at all were more than ever tedious in their murmured conversations. It was, indeed, a bizarre company that surrounded him! Then he reflected that these people had not altered. The change was in himself. He had outgrown them; he surveyed them now as from a tower. He was a man with a future, using this restaurant because it suited him temporarily to do so, while they would use it till the end, never deviating, never leaving the rut. "So you have come at last!" Miss Roberts said to him when he presented his check. "I was beginning to think you had deserted us." "But it's barely a week since I saw you," he protested. "Let me wish you a happy New Year." "The same to you." She flushed a little, and then: "What do you think of our new decorations? Aren't they pretty?" He praised them perfunctorily, even without glancing round. His eyes were on her face. He remembered the reiterated insinuations of Jenkins, and wondered whether they had any ground of fact. "By the way, has Jenkins been here to-day?" he inquired, by way of introducing the name. "Is that the young man who used to come with you sometimes? No." There was no trace of self-consciousness in her bearing, and Richard resolved to handle Jenkins with severity. Another customer approached the pay-desk. "Well, good afternoon." He lingered. "Good afternoon." Her gaze rested on him softly. "I suppose you'll be here again _some_ time." She spoke low, so that the other customer should not hear. "I'm coming every day now, I think," he answered in the same tone, with a smothered laugh. "Ta-ta."