She thought she saw, and nodded appreciatively. He meant to run two establishments! At the same moment a young and stylish man drove rather slowly by in a high dog-cart. He nodded carelessly to George Cannon, and then, perceiving that George Cannon was with a lady, raised his hat in haste. George Cannon responded. The young man gazed for an instant hard at Hilda, with a peculiar expression, and passed on. She did not know who he was. Of George Cannon's relationships in the town she was entirely ignorant, but that he had relationships was always obvious. She blushed, thinking of what Sarah Gailey had said about 'talk' concerning herself and George Cannon. In the young man's glance there had been something to annoy and shame her. "Come across and have a look at the place," said George Cannon, suddenly stepping down into the gutter, with a look first in one direction and then in the other for threatening traffic. "I don't think I'll come now," she replied. "But why not? Are you in a hurry? You've plenty of time before five o'clock--heaps!" "I'd prefer not to come," she insisted, in an abashed and diffident voice. "But what's up?" he demanded, stepping back to the pavement, and glancing directly into her eyes. She blushed more and more, dropping her eyelids. "I don't want to be talked about _too_ much!" she muttered, mortified. Her inference was unmistakable. The whole of her mind seemed now to be occupied with an enormous grievance which she somehow had against the world in general. Her very soul, too, was bursting with this grievance. "Talked about? But who--" "Never mind! I know! I've been told!" she interrupted him. "Oh! I see!" He was now understanding the cause of her trouble in Sarah Gailey's bedroom. "Now look here!" He went on. "I've just got to have a few words with you. You come across the road, please." He was imperious. She raised her glance for a timid moment to his face, and saw to her intense astonishment that he also was blushing. Never before had she seen him blush. "Come along!" he urged. She followed him obediently across the dangerous road. He waited for her at the opposite kerb, and then they went up Ship Street. He turned into the entrance of the Chichester, which was grandiose, with a flight of shallow steps, and then a porch with two basket chairs, and then another flight of shallow steps ending in double doors which were noticeably higher than the street level. She still followed. "Nobody in here, I expect," said George Cannon, indicating a door on the right, to an old waiter who stood in the dark hall. "No, sir." George Cannon opened the door as a master, ushered Hilda into a tiny room furnished with a desk and two chairs, and shut the door. III