"Now we can talk undisturbed," he said; he moved his chair closer to Esther's--he laid his hand on hers. She did not move or try to evade his touch; she just looked down at his hand for a moment and then up at the handsome face which had for so long meant all the world to her. "I never thought we should meet again here of all places," he said in his soft voice. "How long ago does it seem to you since we said good-bye?" She could not answer, but the thought floated through her mind that they never had said good-bye, that he had just walked out of her life and stayed away until this moment, when fate had thrown them together. "If you knew how often I have thought about you," he said. "Did you get my letter, Lallie? The one I wrote on New Year's Eve--and the money? I sent you some money." A swift flush dyed her cheeks; she raised her eyes. That had been his letter then, after all--Micky had lied to her; she caught her breath on a little gasp. "Yes," she said faintly. "Yes--yes, I got it--thank you." "I've often thought since that I might have written you a kinder letter," he said after a moment. "But everything had gone wrong then--the mater cut up rough--and I was up to my eyes in debt. It was the best thing for both of us to put an end to it, don't you think it was? You used to say that you wouldn't mind being poor, but in the end you'd have hated it as much as I should." He paused as if expecting her to speak, but she was plucking at the blue-and-white fringe of the tablecloth with nervous fingers. What did he mean--that he might have written her a kinder letter--when she always remembered it as one of the dearest she had ever received? He went on again-- "It hurt me more than you'll ever know." There was a sort of self-satisfaction in his voice. "It took me a long time to forget you, Lallie, and then, just as I was beginning, I saw you at the theatre--in the stalls ... with Mellowes." His brows met above his handsome eyes. "Mellowes wasn't long picking you up," he added jealously. Her lip quivered, but she did not raise her eyes. "You saw me, too, didn't you?" he persisted. "I know you did, because Mellowes came round afterwards and cursed me to all eternity." He laughed. "I should have made a point of seeing you the next day if it hadn't been for his confounded interference," he went on. "He told me to get out of London and leave you alone." He bent towards her a little. "What is Mellowes to you?" he asked her deliberately. She raised her eyes now, and somehow it seemed as if, in the last few moments, the man she had known and loved had changed into a stranger--some one whom she had never seen before, whom she hoped never to see again. She forced her lips to smile; she felt at that moment she would die rather than let him see how she was suffering, or guess how she had suffered in the past. "He's been kind to me," she said voicelessly. "That's all." Raymond made a little, inarticulate sound.