He knew nothing of her life--he did not want to know. When she left the hospital at last he continued to see her, always saying to himself that there was no harm in it, concealing from himself the pleasure it gave him to know himself adored. She would never tell him where she lived, always giving him a rendezvous on a certain corner, from which they would take a walk for an hour or so. Guessing his desires, she began to change her method of dress, leaving aside the artifices, taking to simple and sober dress, which brought a curious, girlish, counterfeit charm. "I am doing her good," he said to himself. "It means something to her to meet some one who treats her with respect--like a human being--poor little girl." He did not realize how often he met her, leaving his troubled room-mates with a curt excuse, nor how rapidly he consumed the distance to their meeting place. He had talked to her at first seriously of serious things, then gradually, laughing in a boyish way, half tempted, he began to pay her compliments. At first she laughed with a little pleasure, but, as the new attitude continued, he felt her eyes on his face constantly in anxious, wistful scrutiny. One night she did not keep her appointment. He waited troubled, then furious. He left after an hour's lingering, irritable and aroused. The next night as he approached impatiently, half afraid, she was already at the lamp-post. "I waited an hour," he said directly. "I'm sorry; I couldn't come," she answered troubled, but without volunteering an explanation. "Why?" he said with a new irritation. "I couldn't," she said, shaking her head. He felt all at once a new impulse in him--to wound her in some way and make her suffer a little for the disappointment he had had to undergo the night before. "You did it on purpose," he said abruptly. "No, no," she said frowning. "You did." Then suddenly he added: "That's why you stayed away--to make me jealous." "Never." "Why, then?" "I can't tell you," she said. They walked along in silence. Her resistance in withholding the information suddenly made her desirable. He wondered what he might do with her. As they walked still in silence, he put out his hand, and his fingers closed over hers. She did not draw them away. He gave a deep breath and said: "I would like--" "What?" she said, looking up as his pressure made her face him. He put out his arms and took her in them, and stood a long moment, looking at her lips. "Forgive me--I--" he said, stepping back suddenly. "I--I didn't mean to offend you." "No--you couldn't do that--never," she said quietly. "You--you're so pretty to-night--I couldn't help it," he said. To himself he vowed he would never let himself be tempted again--not that night. "I'm going to take you to your home," he said, when after small conversation they returned. "Sure." He was surprised and delighted at this, but almost immediately to be generous he said: "No, no, I won't." "I don't care."