It was only in the small room afterwards, when he was sitting over the fire smoking a cigar and watching the light flickering softly on Musette's white arms, that the sudden realization of his position gripped him. With a horrible abruptness it occurred to him that this was probably the last time he would see her. Up till that moment he had never thought about his relations with Musette. Without making love to her he had drifted into a kind of charming intimacy, quite different from anything he had previously known in a fairly extensive experience. Now the thought that he was going to lose her appeared to him suddenly in all its naked simplicity. He stared into the fire, trying to grasp the unpleasant revelation. Musette leaned forward, looking up at him. "What's the matter, Tony?" she asked. Her hand was on the arm of the chair, and Tony, almost unconsciously, laid his own on it. Her soft and cool clasp answered him with a little affectionate pressure. "My poor Tony," she said, "you look as worried as Saul. What is it?" The devil, or whoever is responsible for our temptations, suddenly brought up in Tony's mind the recollection of Reggie's parting words. He looked down longingly into Musette's upturned face. Here in this strange gracious girl lay a wonderful escape from the black morass into which he had stumbled. She met his gaze with steady, wide-opened eyes and a rather troubled smile. "What is it, Tony dear?" she repeated. "Tell me." He slowly moved his hand until it imprisoned her arm, and then bent down towards her. "Musette," he whispered, "Musette." Her breast rose and fell like some beautiful white flower, but she remained silent and motionless. Tony was so near now that he could feel the warm breath from her parted lips, and for a moment he forgot everything in the supreme hunger to kiss her. It was as he did so that his conscience suddenly broke through the habits of a lifetime. He stood up quietly in front of her and put his hands behind his back. "I was going to ask you to marry me, Musette," he said. Musette nodded. "But now," said Tony, after a short pause, "I am going to tell you the truth instead." He sat down and stared into the fire. "I'm ruined, Musette. I owe about ten thousand pounds, and I haven't a penny in the world. I've spent and gambled away every shilling my father left me. I had the last five thousand I can possibly raise on Little Eva." Musette, who had been listening to him with the same half-grave, half-smiling expression on her face, got up from her chair and crossed the room to a small satin-wood writing-table in the corner. She opened the drawer and took out something. "Is this your cheque, Tony?" she asked, handing him a small slip of pink paper. Tony looked at it in bewilderment. "I don't understand," he said. Musette sat down and folded her hands.