They seemed to be asking him a question, asking and asking till every fibre of his body was concentrated in the desperate effort with, which he kept her at arm's length.
"Is it so very late ?" she whispered, coming just a little closer, so that she was indeed almost within the shelter of his arms.
He clutched her hands almost roughly and raised them to his lips.
"Much too late for me to stay here, child," he said, and his voice even to himself sounded hard and unnatural.
"Run along to bed.

To-morrow night--to-morrow night, then, I will fetch you.

Good-bye!" He let himself out.

He did not even look behind to the spot where he had left her.

He closed the front door and walked with swift, almost savage footsteps down the quiet Street, across the Square, and into New Oxford Street.