A bookseller's window arrested him. There, open to the gaze of every pedestrian, stood a volume of which the sight made him thrill with rapture; a finely illustrated folio, a treatise on the Cathedrals of France. Five guineas was the price it bore. A moment's lingering, restrained by some ignoble spirit of thrift which the wine had not utterly overcome, and he entered the shop. He purchased the volume. It would have pleased him to carry it away, but in mere good-nature he allowed the shopman's suggestion to prevail, and gave his address that the great tome might be sent to him. How cheap it was--five guineas for so much instant delight and such boundless joy of anticipation! On one of the benches in Trafalgar Square he sat for a long time watching the fountains, and ever and anon letting them lead his eyes upwards to the great snowy clouds that gleamed upon the profound blue. Some ragged children were at play near him; he searched his pocket, collected coppers and small silver, and with a friendly cry of "Holloa, you ragamuffins!" scattered amazement and delight. St. Martin's Church told him that the hour was turned of six. Then a purpose that had hung vaguely in his mind like a golden mist took form and substance. He set off to walk northward, came out into Holborn, and loitered in the neighbourhood of a certain place of business, which of late he had many times observed. It was not long that he had to wait. Presently there came forth someone whom he knew, and with quick steps he gained her side. Eve Madeley perceived him without surprise. "Yes," he said, "I am here again. If it's disagreeable to you, tell me, and I will go my own way at once." "I have no wish to send you away," she answered, with a smile of self-possession. "But all the same, I think it would be wiser if you did go." "Ah, then, if you leave me to judge for myself----! You look tired this evening. I have something to say to you; let us turn for a moment up this byway." "No, let us walk straight on." "I beg of you!--Now you are kind. I am going to dine at a restaurant. Usually, I eat my dinner at home--a bad dinner and a cheerless room. On such an evening as this I can't go back and appease hunger in that animal way. But when I sit down in the restaurant I shall be alone. It's miserable to see the groups of people enjoying themselves all round and to sit lonely. I can't tell you how long it is since I had a meal in company. Will you come and dine with me?" "I can't do that." "Where's the impossibility?" "I shouldn't like to do it." "But would it be so very disagreeable to sit and talk? Or, I won't ask you to talk; only to let me talk to you. Give me an hour or two of your time--that's what I ask. It means so much to me, and to you, what does it matter?" Eve walked on in silence; his entreaties kept pace with her. At length she stopped. "It's all the same to me--if you wish it----" "Thank you a thousand times!"