But for that, he might justify himself in addressing her.
She had finished her wine and was looking round.

Her glance fell upon him, and for a moment rested.

With a courage not his own, Hilliard rose, advanced, and respectfully doffed his hat.
"Miss Madeley----" The note was half interrogative, but his voice failed before he could add another syllable.

Eve drew herself up, rigid in the alarm of female instinct.
"I am a stranger to you," Hilliard managed to say.

"But I come from Dudley; I know some of your friends----" His hurried words fell into coherence.