"I suppose because I feel it is a sin to remain indoors on such a night." Had not her eyes been averted from his face she must have seen his lips compress themselves at her words. A sort of hardness came into his voice. "Your language is somewhat exaggerated," he returned. "The physical benefit is more obvious than the moral, I think. However, if it gives you a sense of righteousness, so much the better. I will lend myself readily to further that end. What do you usually do in the evenings?" "Sit on the stoep generally. I don't care about cards. When Mr Sinclair was here we used to walk." "Sinclair!--yes... The fellow who fancied he possessed all the virtues because he had not certain vices. You must miss him." "That isn't a very kind description," she said. "I was not trying to be kind," he answered. "I am not of a kindly disposition. You may observe that I do not lay claim to any of the virtues. It is safe to conclude that what you don't claim will never be conceded to you. These facts once grasped simplify life enormously. But I waste time in attempting to teach you worldly wisdom. You live in a world of illusions." He spoke very little during the remainder of the time he sat at table. His manner was preoccupied, and his face looked grim. Esme felt that he regretted having yielded to her request; he resented interference with his routine. When he rose from the table, which he did before any of the others, he turned to her and said in his curt way: "Please be ready in half an hour from now." Then he pushed his chair back and walked quickly from the room. The old gentleman on her right asked Esme to make a fourth at bridge. He looked disappointed when she declined. She explained that she was going for a walk. "It is good to be young. But don't overdo it," he counselled. "The air is so wonderful; I am never tired up here," she replied. "I have heard that said of the air in other places," he said, and smiled. "If I were twenty years younger I would go with you." The old gentleman was not on the stoep to see Esme start on her walk. He would have been astonished equally with the rest who viewed her departure to see Hallam come out of the house and join her and walk with her into the road. The people on the stoep who witnessed these things, wondered, and spoke of their wonder to one another. No one before had seen Hallam in the evenings after he left the dinner table. No one, except this girl, who seemed on terms of easy friendliness with him, ever spoke to him. It is not easy to talk to a man who deliberately ignores your existence. It was plain that he wanted to be left alone: yet he made an exception in favour of the girl. There was only one construction likely to be placed on this amazing preference. And so the people at the hotel looked after the disappearing figures, and criticised the growing intimacy between the man and girl long after they had vanished from sight amid the shadows of the early dusk.