As he advanced toward her he said: "_What_ are you seeing? Please don't look like that." Persuasively, "You weren't thinking of me--were you?" "No--Oh, no," replied she, passing her hand over her eyes to try to drive away the vision of Ferguson. "You look as if you expected to be murdered. Do you want to go?" She forced herself to seem calm. "What a coward I am!" she said to herself. "If I could only die for him, instead of this. But I can't. And I _must_ get money for him." To the young man she said: "No. I--I--want to stay." Late in the afternoon, when they were once more in the street, he said. "I'd ask you to go to dinner with me, but I haven't enough money." She stopped short. An awful look came into her face. "Don't be alarmed," cried he, hurried and nervous, and blushing furiously. "I put the--the present for you in that funny little bundle of yours, under one of the folds of the nightgown or whatever it is you've got wrapped on the outside. I didn't like to hand it to you. I've a feeling somehow that you're not regularly--that kind." "Was it--ten dollars?" she said, and for all he could see she was absolutely calm. "Yes," replied he, with a look of relief followed by a smile of amused tenderness. "I can't make you out," he went on. "You're a queer one. You've had a look in your eyes all afternoon--well, if I hadn't been sure you were experienced, you'd almost have frightened me away." "Yes, I've had experience. The--the worst," said the girl. "You--you attract me awfully; you've got--well, everything that's nice about a woman--and at the same time, there's something in your eyes---- Are you very fond of your friend?" "He's all I've got in the world." "I suppose it's his being sick that makes you look and act so queer?" "I don't know what's the matter with me," she said slowly. "I--don't know." "I want to see you again--soon. What's your address?" "I haven't any. I've got to look for a place to live." "Well, you can give me the place you did live. I'll write you there, Lorna. You didn't ask me my name when I asked you yours. You've hardly said anything. Are you always quiet like this?" "No--not always. At Least, I haven't been." "No. You weren't, part of the time this afternoon--at the restaurant. Tell me, what are you thinking about all the time? You're very secretive. Why don't you tell me? Don't you know I like you?" "I don't know," said the girl in a slow dazed way. "I--don't--know." "I wouldn't take your time for nothing," he went on, after a pause. "My father doesn't give me much money, but I think I'll have some more day after tomorrow. Can I see you then?" "I don't know." He laughed. "You said that before. Day after tomorrow afternoon--in the same place. No matter if it's raining. I'll be there first--at three. Will you come?" "If I can."