"It's the sin of a good, respectable girl taking such things for a
price," interrupted Anne, "and of you, Mr Burton, to entice her to it,
and keep her like this. It's not on _you_ the judgment'll fall, but on
_her_. How's she to face the neighbours and everybody she's known from a
child when you've done with her?"

"I've not done with her yet by a good way," said Burton. "Don't you
worry yourself, Miss Hilton."

"You're a man of money and position, and a newcomer in the
neighbourhood," went on Anne, "and the neighbours are afraid to say
anything before you. But they say plenty about Jane, whom they've known
all their life. Young people she used to play with talk of her with
shame, and when you've finished with her she'll not have a friend to go
to."

"But I tell you I've not done with her yet, and shan't for many a good
while," repeated Burton. "I dare say she'll be tired first if it comes
to that."

"Can you ever give her back what you've taken from her?" asked Anne
breathlessly, trying to pierce the self-confidence she did not
understand.

"Well, it was something like slaving all one day and then starving the
next before," said Burton, "and she lives like a lady now. You should
just see the fancy-work she gets through--no dressmaking now!"

Anne turned to Jane, who was sitting flushed and resentfully embarrassed
in the satin armchair, looking expectantly to Richard to see her