inhospitable beast." He poured it out just as it came into his head.

She asked if he was going to town.

"Yes, yes--to town," he replied. "I've got to call on--on Chambers. You
know Chambers, don't you? No, I remember you don't; a big man you once
saw me with.... I ought to have gone yesterday, and--" this he felt to be
a brilliant effort--"and he's going out of town this afternoon. To
Brighton. I had a letter from him this morning."

He took her arm and led her up the square. She had to remind him that his
way to town lay in the other direction.

"Of course--how stupid of me!" he said, with a little loud laugh. "I'm so
used to going the other way with you--of course; it's the other way to
the bus. Will you come along with me? I am so awfully sorry it's happened
like this...."

They took the street to the bus terminus.

This time Elsie bore no signs of having gone through interior struggles.
If she detected anything unusual in his manner she made no comment, and
he, seeing her calm, began to talk less recklessly through silences. By
the time they reached the bus terminus, nobody, seeing the pallid-faced
man without an overcoat and the large ample-skirted girl at his side,
would have supposed that one of them was ready to sink on his knees for
thankfulness that he had, as he believed, saved the other from a wildly
unthinkable danger.

They mounted to the top of the bus, Oleron protesting that he should not