“You are most unkind!” she complained, following him in his great angry strides down the street, “and unnecessary. It is quite dark, no one could see me, or recognise me, and I do so want to talk to you. If you must take a hansom, choose one without a lamp. Egidia is away, for two days. I don’t know where she has gone. I felt I must see you, do you hear? It is a month since I have been in London--a month of agony.... Did you hail it?” she asked nervously, as a cab drew up along the kerbstone. She put her hand appealingly on his arm. “I won’t get in, unless you promise to come with me, so far. I must--I must talk to you.” “You are behaving like a child.” “I know I am,” she said, “only because you are behaving like a---- ” What was she going to say? She did not know herself, only that a crushing sense of estrangement, of inevitableness, had come over her; the prop of an unacknowledged hope that had stayed her for so many weeks had been rudely withdrawn. The man she loved was a stranger; she had surely never lived at his side, day in, day out, through the summer that was past? A wave of despair overwhelmed her, black as the mud she looked down on, as she stood, her foot on the step, prepared to abandon her point, and go back alone. But she had gained it. “Anything sooner than a scene in the street!” she heard Rivers say wearily to himself, as he got in beside her. “How cruel you are--how inconsiderate! Surely I have the right to a few words with you! I will never perhaps speak to you again in this world!” He sat, stiff in his closely-buttoned overcoat, like a statue beside her, and spoke no word. She took his hand, as it lay on his knee. “Forgive me--do forgive me! I am so sorry--so dreadfully sorry!” “What for?” he said, gently. “For bringing this on you--this--this disgrace. And you cannot forgive me, that is just it. I realised it when you refused to see me just now, and sent me a message by a servant.” “I had to. Think, yourself! You must really not be so unreasonable!” “I am reasonable--quite, quite reasonable; and saying good-bye to you, if you only would let me! Yes, you never cared for me much, and now the little ghost of love is laid forever. This threatened disgrace and exposure has killed it. But it was there--don’t take that from me--a little love, and the rest of it pity. Egidia says so, and I believe her.... Stop, stop, I am not asking you to say anything--I had rather you did not protest.... Oh, look at that great red Bovril sign flaring out! It looks as if the whole street was on fire. It must frighten the horses....” Her voice broke into a sob of hysterical terror. “Dear---- ” began Rivers, clasping her hand more tightly.