"Eh?" said Kincaid. "Oh, wait if you like, madam." She sank into a seat mutely. The response had not sounded encouraging, but it permitted her to rest, and rest was what she yearned for now. How indifferent the world was! how mercilessly little anybody cared for anybody else! "Wait, if you like, madam"--go and die, if you like, madam--go and lay your bones in the gutter, madam, so long as you don't bother me! She watched the big hand hazily as it shifted to and fro across the paper. The man probably had money in his pocket that signified nothing to him, and to her it would have been salvation. He lived in comfort while she was starving; he did not know that she was starving, but how much would it affect him if he did know? She wondered whether she could induce him to give an order for the book; perhaps he was just as likely to order it as the other man? Then she would take a cab back to Mr. Collins and ask him for her commission at once, and go and eat something--if she were able to eat any longer. She roused herself with an effort, and crossed the room to where he sat. "I came to see Mr. Corri from Messrs. Pattenden," she faltered, "about a new work they're publishing. I've brought a specimen. If I am not disturbing you----?" She put it down as she spoke, and stood a pace or two behind him, watching the effect. "Is this woman very nervous?" said Kincaid to himself. "So she's a book-agent! I thought she had something to sell. Good Lord, what a life!" "Thanks," he answered. "I'm very busy just now, and I never buy my books on the subscription plan." "You could have it sent in to you when it's complete," she suggested. He drummed his fingers on the title-page. "I don't want it." "Perhaps Mr. Corri----?" "I can't speak for Mr. Corri; but don't wait for him, on my advice. I'm afraid it would be patience wasted." He shut the _Album_ up, intimating that he had done with it. But the woman made no movement to withdraw it, and he invited this movement by pushing the thing aside. He drew the blotting-pad forward to resume his letter; and still she did not remove her obnoxious specimen from the desk. He was beginning to feel irritated. "If you choose to wait, madam, take a seat," he said.... "I say take----" He turned, questioning her continued silence, and sprang to his feet in dismay. The book-agent's head was lolling on her bosom; and his arm--extended to support her--was only out in time to catch her as she fell. CHAPTER VI "Now," said Kincaid, when she opened her eyes, "what's the matter with you? No nonsense; I'm a doctor; you mustn't tell lies to me! What's the matter with you?" There are some things a woman cannot say; this was one of them. "You're very exhausted?" "Oh," she said weakly, "I--just a little." "When had you food last?" She gave no answer. He scrutinised her persistently, noting her hesitation, and shot his next question straight at the mark. "Are you hungry?" The eyes closed again, and her lips quivered.