In the months that followed the meeting in the church, King saw Billee frequently. She came to him at places below Twenty-third Street usually, and he could not help but notice that she was at times a little nervous. She developed a fancy for downtown picture shows, and he began to be concerned for her. Her dress was not always what it should have been, her gloves alternated between holes and darns. Once, admitting that she was hungry, she had let him take her into one of the white restaurants scattered throughout the city and served by girls. She enjoyed it all unaffectedly, the only drawback being that her beauty made her conspicuous. Their presence in the lunch-house raised a little storm of excitement among the girls, which King noticed with uneasiness. He arrived at the conclusion, unwillingly, that he was dressed too well for the girl he was escorting. And once, face to face with her, a gentleman paused and half raised his hat. He blocked the way. Billee’s little chin went into the air ignoring him, but King roughly shoved the fellow into the gutter. “Shall I go back and beat him up?” he asked, overtaking Billee, who was hurrying away. “No,” she said a little hysterically, and laughing, “come, he probably took me for someone else.” But King thought otherwise. One evening they wandered from a picture play and found a seat in Washington Square. “See here, Billee,” he said, “I don’t know what your secret is, but we have about reached the limit in some things. I am going to be blunt, even rude, you will think; but last week you borrowed a carfare of me and your gloves are frightful. And your dress!--come, it’s all wrong. You won’t marry me, won’t talk about it even; let’s switch off and you be just a trusting little friend in all things until your affairs straighten out. You need things. The fact keeps me unhappy. I have plenty of money; let me be banker and provide everything. And if your job isn’t pleasant or profitable, drop it. There is no need for you to do menial work or be at the beck and call of exacting old ladies. I can take care of you until you find a congenial occupation.” But her face was something more than a study when he looked into it after the offer, which had embarrassed him not a little. Her mouth trembled and her eyes turned from him. “You mean--you want to--want me to take a flat somewhere and--let you--pay the rent?” “Good God, no!” She watched him as though fascinated by a vision. “King, it would be wonderful--just to see you coming and going every day!” “Billee!” She laughed and suddenly hid her face. “What a boy it is, still!” She looked up shyly. “No, King, when you are your own man and successful and other men speak your name with admiration and you are so secure in your field you can marry whom you please, even a girl who has done menial work--if you want me then, I will come to you, and the flat, if you want a flat. Till then, it’s--just sweethearts.”