She was in the habit of dispensing money a little largely, and for the present she could quite well afford to do this. For Chaff had done more than pay his debt. That very day she had had a letter from him, forwarded by the bank. He had paid one hundred pounds into her account, asking her to regard the extra twenty-five pounds as interest on his unceremonious borrowing. But she did not for a moment believe his cheerful tale that "things were all right again now"; poor old boy, ten to one he had borrowed pretty ruinously elsewhere in order to pay her. At all events, Weston should not give up his Sundays for nothing, and she might, after all, allow him an outpouring about Richenda and the future nest once in a while. It was only half-a-crown a week. But as she left Weston she was thinking of something else that half-a-crown a week had power to buy. Half-a-crown a week would have bought this big shabby student a bath almost every day. To have to carry a change of underclothing in a brown paper parcel to another man's place---- And to have that parcel peeped into---- How damnable--no, how funny, she meant! In the light of her knowledge of this extraordinary economy Mr. Jeffries had to practise she felt--she didn't know why--almost shy in his presence the next time she saw him. She felt that she possessed something of his--namely, this knowledge--which she ought not to have possessed. She wondered whether he knew how he had been given away. Something about him almost suggested that he might.