Before she could reply (supposing that she had any intention of replying) Myles had leaned a little forward, and tapped Mr. Spenceley on the shoulder. With a great start, quite disproportionate to the circumstances, the latter brought his chair to its normal position again. Myles saw the start, and stifled a smile. ‘Excuse me, my good sir, I don’t remember ever to have seen you here before, so perhaps you won’t mind showing me your ticket--I mean your member’s ticket--otherwise----’ ‘Will yah hold yah tongue?’ retorted the other, in a tone of scornful exasperation. ‘No,’ replied Myles. ‘If you’ve any right to be here, show me your ticket, and hold _your_ tongue, according to rules; if you haven’t that right, walk out at once.’ ‘I can tell yah, yah don’t seem to know who ya’h speaking to,’ observed Mr. Spenceley, apparently lost in astonishment. ‘Are yah one of the authorities here?’ ‘Oh yes! I know you,’ said Myles, who saw that the young lady was now watching the dispute with undisguised interest. ‘And I’m that much of an authority that I can prevent you from disturbing and annoying people. Once for all, will you show me your card of admission?’ ‘No, I won’t.’ ‘Then you’ll excuse my going to the librarian and telling him you are here without right--unless you prefer to save that trouble to me, and ten shillings to yourself, by walking yourself off now, this moment,’ said Myles, who began to find a delicious piquancy in the sensation of dealing thus summarily with a person of the consideration of Frederick Spenceley. It was an ignoble feeling, and we all have ignoble feelings sometimes, or what is the meaning of the constant injunctions to bear and forbear which we receive from different sources? ‘Haw! Wha--at?’ ‘The fine for using this room without belonging to it is ten shillings. There’s another fine for talking and disturbing people, too,’ said Myles, who had never lost his look of perfect ease and calmness, and who did not for a moment remove his eyes from the other’s face. Mr. Spenceley did not appear to like the mention of fines. His face fell; his hand involuntarily sought his pocket. ‘Tender in that direction, poor fellow!’ thought Myles to himself. ‘Confounded radical place, this!’ observed Mr. Spenceley. ‘Not fit for gentlemen to live in.’ ‘Not when they have only been gentlemen since the last general election,’ said Myles, politely. ‘I quite agree with you.’ ‘Well, I shall go and see what the librarian says to all this,’ said Mr. Spenceley, by way of covering his retreat; and then, after a prolonged stare at the girl in the window, he retired, not so jauntily as he had entered. Myles picked up his book again. The girl watched her tormentor, until the noiseless door had swung to behind him, and she had seen his shadow pass towards the stairs. Myles feigned to read, but he could not help seeing how she trembled as she sat there.