got were short and not explicit; and whether he resented this, or merely
took a malicious pleasure in irritating his companion, whose character he
well knew, he continued speaking of Fan, protesting that he had not seen
a lovelier girl for a long time, and begging Miss Starbrow to note how
everyone--or every _man_, rather, since man only has eyes to see so
exquisite a face--looked keenly at the girl in passing.

"My dear Miss Starbrow," he said, "I must congratulate you on your--ahem
--late repentance. You know you were always a great woman-hater--a kind of
she-misogynist, if such a form of expression is allowable. You must have
changed indeed before bringing that fresh charming young girl out with
you." He angered her and she did not conceal it, because she could not,
though knowing that he was studying to annoy her from motives of revenge.
For this man, who was old enough to be her father, and had spent the last
decade trying to pick up a woman with money to mend his broken fortunes--
this watery-eyed, smirking old beau, who wrote himself down young, going
about Regent Street on a cold November day without overcoat or
spectacles--this man had had the audacity to propose marriage to her! She
had sent him about his business with a burst of scorn, which shook his
old, battered moral constitution like a tempest of wind and thunder, and
he had not forgotten it. He chuckled at the successful result of his
attack, not caring to conceal his glee; but this meeting proved very
unfortunate for poor Fan. After dismissing her old lover with scant
courtesy, Miss Starbrow caught up with the girl, and they walked on in
silence, looking at no shop-windows now. One glance at the dark angry
face was enough to spoil Fan's pleasure for the day and to make her
shrink within herself, wondering much as to what had caused so great and
sudden a change.

Arrived at Piccadilly Circus, Miss Starbrow called a cab.