"He's got me to thank for ever getting to know you," he said. "I gave him your address and asked him to take you out a bit if he fancied it.... I asked him to be kind to you." The hands in her lap twitched convulsively. "If I'd had one tenth of his beastly money," Raymond said then savagely, "we shouldn't be sitting here now as if we were strangers--as if ... Lallie--do you remember the good time we used to have----" "I remember everything." He bent closer. "I never cared for any woman in all my life but you. It's cursed hard luck." He sighed. "You know I'm married?" he asked abruptly. "Oh yes!" The words came stiffly. His eyes searched her white face jealously. "You don't seem to care. I've often wondered if you knew--and if you minded!" He sat staring before him, and there was a little smile in his eyes. "We do things in style now, I can tell you," he said with sudden change of voice. "She's as rich as you please, and she likes to spend her money." Another silence. "I hope you'll be happy," Esther said faintly. Afterwards she wondered what made her say it, seeing that she did not care in the very least if he were happy or not; why should she care? This man was a stranger to her. He laughed ruefully. "Oh, I suppose we shall," he said. "She's not a bad sort, and she lets me alone...." He roused himself suddenly and bent closer to her. "Lallie--you'll let me see you again. There's no reason why we can't be--friends--just because I'm married----" He tried to take her hand, but now she repulsed him, though very gently. "You're not going to be a little prude?" he said in a whisper. "I can give you the time of your life if you'll let me. I've plenty of money now----" "Your wife's money," said Esther with stiff lips. He looked annoyed. "If you like to put it that way--but she doesn't mind--she's too fond of me to mind how much I spend ... Lallie----" She hated to hear that name, because once she had loved it. She closed her eyes for a moment with a little sick shudder. "Are you faint?" he asked anxiously. "I suppose it is warm in here. Take your coat off! Jove! that's a fine coat----" He ran an appreciative hand down the soft fur sleeve; a sudden suspicion crept into his eyes. "Who gave you that?" he asked sharply. "Not Mellowes----?" "No--at least...." She could not go on. Micky had given it to her, she knew, but she would have bitten her tongue through rather than have told this man. It had been Micky all the time--Micky.... She thrust the thought of him from her; she did not want to think of him now. There would be plenty of time later on; plenty of time when she had shaken off the last rag of the past. "It cost a pretty penny, whoever bought it," he said sulkily. "What else has he given you? If you can take presents from him you can't refuse to let me see you sometimes, and after all--you did love me once.... Esther, do you remember the way you cried that last day?"