"I shouldn't notice. I should be thinking of you." "Nonsense; you'll be thinking about breakfast. Where do you sleep?" "When I'm up like this, at a hotel in Jermyn Street." "Are you comfortable there?" "I only sleep there. I breakfast at the club." "Where's that?" "We passed it on the way down." "How you must have wanted to get away! Your coat's undone." "What of it?" "Do it up." "But--" "You'll take cold. Do it up or I'll leave you at once." "Don't be so considerate," he said, as he obeyed her behest. "It isn't kind." "Why not?" "It makes me fonder--I mean like you ever so much." When they reached Sloane Street, he remarked: "Do let me drive you. It's a shame to make you walk. You must be quite tired out." "I'll leave you and get a 'bus," she replied. "And you won't give me your address?" "No." Although heavily laden 'buses were constantly passing, she made no pretence of stopping one; not because she had no money: she had forgotten for the time being that she was penniless. Her mind was a welter of emotion. She regretted her sudden tenderness in the matter of his unbuttoned overcoat; she reproached herself for not leaving him directly she had got away from Mrs Hamilton's; she knew she would never forgive him for having insulted her; the fact of his having kissed her lips seemed in some mysterious way to bind them together; she hated herself for having denied that she was Mavis Keeves. The many leanings of her mind struggled for precedence; very soon, concern for the lie that she had told the man, who it was now evident wished her well, possessed her to the exclusion of all else. She suffered tortures of self-reproach, which became all but unendurable. Windebank, who had been walking between her and the curb, suddenly moved so that she was on the outside. "Why did you do that?" she asked. "The wind. Little Mavis might take cold." She could bear it no longer. "Stop!" she cried. He looked at her in surprise. "I've something to tell you. I can't go on like this." "What is it?" he asked, all concern. "When you know, you'll never forgive me. I lied to you." "Lied?" "Yes, lied, lied, lied. But I can't let it go on. I hate myself for doing it. Why was I so wicked?" "Give it up." "My name. I told you a lie about it." "Is that all?" "Isn't that enough? I am Mavis Keeves. I am--" "What?" he interrupted. "I didn't like to confess it before. Don't, please don't think very badly of me." "YOU--little Mavis after all?" "Yes," she answered softly. "What wonderful, wonderful luck! I can't believe it even now. You little Mavis! How did it all come about?" "It's simple enough." "Simple!" He laughed excitedly. "You call it simple?" "Let me tell you. I was very miserable to-day and I prayed and--and--"