"'Perhaps' again," said Barton. "You mean to say that I have not sufficiently strong incentive to be anything else--that if I had, that if I were a poor man for instance, I should probably land in prison." "I am quite sure you would." "Dear me, you seem to have made up your mind about me very definitely--it hasn't taken you long either." "I judge by your face. As I read it, it is a page of devil-print!" Barton rubbed his hands. He seemed more tickled than anything else. Certainly he was in no wise offended. "I believe I have found a real pearl in the gutter," he chuckled. Then he turned to her, "Tell me now, why did you save me from your Jabez?" "I did not know you then--perhaps if I had, your body would now be lying in the river." "And my soul--what about that?" "You should know--if you are a man and not an animal." "You are mistaken, young lady--you think me a libertine, no doubt----" "Oh, nothing of the kind--you are too hard even for that. If I had any doubt about it, I should not be here with you now." "Well, well, let us hope that after a little longer acquaintance your opinion of me will improve. For the present I wish to befriend you all I can--that at least should be a point in my favour." "But why--why, I ask, should you wish to befriend me? What is your object?" "That you shall know when the times comes. Let us resume your very interesting story." "You have heard it. I told you I met Jabez, and that he loves me. I suspected when he went out to-night that he was desperate--that he might steal, murder even, if by so doing he could obtain food for me--that is why I followed him, to save him, and, as it happened, I did save him, and you too." "And the boy who acted a jackal to your lion--who is he?" "Shorty--oh, he is a wicked little creature, who ought by rights to be in a reformatory." "Indeed. Now please attend to me, Miss Crane. I am no philanthropist, nor am I a fool, and you yourself seem willing to acquit me of any amatory intentions. You will easily believe then that it is from no feeling of sentiment that I have brought you here to-night. One strong dose of that kind of thing has lasted me through life. I suffered badly at the hands of your sex once, but once only. I am never likely to suffer again. Nevertheless, I confess that if it had not been for your beauty, I should have left you there on the bridge." "I am not beautiful," contradicted Miriam. "No?--well, you must allow me to be judge of that. I repeat, my intentions are perfectly prosaic. I am no Don Juan of gutter-girls. I see in you exactly such a person as I need for the carrying through of a scheme I have in hand." Miriam rose. "I refuse to have anything to do with it," she said emphatically. "Had you not better learn what it is first?" "No. I am sure it is vile." She made towards the door.