startling, more appalling than the other; he shrank from it, resented it
even more. Was it true that they had something in common? And if so,
was it sin or sorrow, or both?

"I might have known," she said, staring at him. In spite of his gesture
of dissent, he saw that she was going over the events of the evening from
her new point of view.

"I might have known, when we were sitting there in Harrods, that you were
up against it, too, but I couldn't think of anything but the way I was
fixed. The agent's been here twice this week for the rent, and I was
kind of desperate for a square meal."

Hodder took the dustpan from her hand, and flung its contents into the
fireplace.

"Then we are both fortunate," he said, "to have met each other."

"I don't see where you come in," she told him.

He turned and smiled at her.

"Do you remember when I was here that evening about two months ago I said
I should like to be your friend? Well, I meant it. And I have often
hoped, since then, that some circumstance might bring us together again.
You seemed to think that no friendship was possible between us, but I
have tried to make myself believe that you said so because you didn't
know me."

"Honest to God?" she asked. "Is that on the level?"